


Miracle

by xavierching



Category: Day6 (Band), GOT7, Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent-Child Relationship, Romance, Single Parents, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2020-08-19 03:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xavierching/pseuds/xavierching
Summary: Miracle illuminates the darkest hour.Mark almost lost hope for the world when Brian died in a plane crash. But God gave him a reason to live on. His son, Jisung, is now four years old. When Mark begins to question the meaning of his life and returns to the dating scene, his best friend, Jackson, reacts strangely to the chance encounter between Mark and Jaebeom.Will Mark discover another miracle in the pursuit of happiness?





	1. Take me to you

‘Daddy, you have to try this! Jisung made the bestest coffee in the world!’

Mark looked up from Jinyoung’s novel. His son smiled brightly at him, holding out a toy teacup. It was cute to see how the four-year-old used paper and clothes pegs to make a half apron. He even drew a pocket for better imitation. Jisung’s creativity never ceased to amaze his father.

‘Wow, it smells really nice,’ Mark pretended to sniff the air.  
‘Be careful, Daddy,’ Jisung balanced the teacup with extreme caution, ‘this is very very very hot, but very very very yummy.’  
‘Thank you,’ Mark took an imaginary sip and gasped dramatically, ‘oh my gosh! This is the best coffee I’ve ever had!’  
‘Better than Jackson-hyung’s cheese ramen?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Better than Gyeomie-hyung’s choco cake?’  
‘Yes.’  
‘Better than Bammie-hyung’s Pad Thai?’  
Jisung’s out-of-the-box comparison was too endearing. Mark picked up his boy and swirled him in the air, ‘my baby is the best!’

The little barista laughed loudly as it was one of his favourite activities. He loved it when his father spun him. He loved it when his father tickled him. He loved it when his father kissed his forehead. He loved it when his father sang him a lullaby. Tuan Jisung simply loved his only parent.

_Taking me to you. Take me to you, take me, oh take me to you._

Mark returned Jisung to his cafe before hurrying off for the call. He stifled a sigh as the caller was doubtlessly Jackson. His best friend, also his project manager, would yell at him for missing the deadline again. He was translating the last few pages of Jinyoung’s book but he really needed more time to proofread and edit.

‘Tuan Yien!’ Jackson’s voice boomed through the speaker.  
‘Sorry Jacks, I’ll make sure Jinyoung doesn’t blame you for the delay,’ Mark said sheepishly, ‘Jisung had a high fever so I couldn’t really work on the book –’  
‘What?’ the younger gasped, ‘my godson was sick and you didn’t even tell me!’  
‘Well, you’re busy wi –’  
‘I’m always free for my lovely godson. Not for his Daddy though.’

A smile crept onto Mark’s face. Jackson had been a wonderful godfather. He doted on Jisung as much as Mark did. He even ditched dates to look after his godson when the older was sick. Mark really could not ask for a better best friend.

‘Anyway, I’ll pull an all-nighter. Hopefully, I can finish everything by noon. If not, I’ll bring Jisungie to Bambam and get the job done by the evening.’  
‘No, I haven’t seen him for so long that Jisung might have forgotten my face!’  
‘You sure it’s only your face he’s forgotten?’ Mark giggled.  
Jackson tsked, ‘I’m gonna kidnap your son after his piano lesson. If you want him back, give me the last chapter of _My Youth_. Period.’  
‘Sounds like a plan.’  
‘Tell Jisung we’re going to the park tomorrow.’  
‘Okay, bye bye.’

Jisung was still working at his cafe. The boy delivered a piece of cheesecake to Mr Squirrel and was taking an order from Mr Piglet. Mark decided to prepare dinner early while his energetic son busied himself. Soon, Carbonara with broccoli was ready. Jisung finished everything on his own without spilling any sauce on his shirt. Mark was really pleased and rewarded the boy with an extra episode of Doraemon. Afterwards, Jisung picked out his pyjamas for shower. Everything went smoothly.

‘Bedtime story, Daddy?’ Jisung rubbed his eyes.  
‘Which one do you want?’ Mark scanned the bookshelf, ‘“The Ugly Duckling”?’  
The boy exchanged idea with Mr Fox, ‘we want the rightest one please.’

It was “The Little Match Girl.” Mark’s least favourite fairy tale.

‘- She lighted another match. And now she was under a most beautiful Christmas tree. Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches. The child stretched out her hands to them; then the match went out. Still, the lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher. She saw them now as stars in heaven, and one of them fell, forming a long trail of fire.

‘“Now someone is dying,” murmured the little girl softly; for her grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now dead, had told her that whenever a star falls a soul mounts up to God.

‘She struck yet another match against the wall, and again it was light; and in the brightness there appeared before her the dear old grandmother, bright and radiant, yet sweet and mild, and happy as she had never looked on earth.’

‘If I light a match, will I see Papa?’ Jisung asked curiously.

The question caught Mark off guard. A large lump blocked his throat but there was no way to swallow it. He hastily brushed away fresh tears. The way they trickled down his face always stirred up grief. He took a deep breath to steady his voice.

‘Papa already left this world to a faraway place. Although we cannot see him, he is watching over us. Listening to us. He misses us just as much as we miss him. Always remember – Papa loves you. Daddy loves you. One day, we will meet again. We will meet again for sure.’

Mark tucked Jisung in and pressed a kiss on his forehead.  
‘Goodnight Daddy,’ the boy mumbled groggily, ‘I love you.’  
‘I love you too.’

The father returned to his desk, easing into the role of a professional translator. Compared to the previous chapters in which Jinyoung had used allusion, riddle and wordplay extensively, the final bits of _My Youth_ were relatively easy. However, Mark found himself unable to process the sentence. The hangul characters suddenly looked so foreign. Circles, squares and strokes floated in front of him while his head started replaying snippets of Brian. His dazzling smile, his fox-like eyes, his sonorous voice.

Mark could recall every detail of the night Brian gave him a promise ring. That romantic dork brought him to Banpo Bridge. He played his guitar and sang a self-composed song called Beautiful Feeling. That was the moment Mark realised he really wanted to carry Kang Younghyun’s child.

Jisung resembled his Papa in many ways. He showed interest in music at an early age. Toddler Sungie would sing along with cartoon theme songs and dance to K-pop hits. He had begged Mark to let him play the piano since his third birthday. Also, the boy was confident, outgoing and bright. He liked befriending other kids, especially the shy ones. Jisung had definitely inherited some positive traits from his Papa, in addition to the good looks.

Mark could not imagine his life without Jisung. The pregnancy helped him cope with Brian’s death and the conflicts with the Kangs. No matter how difficult it was to raise a child alone, Jisung always made him stronger than he actually was. Mark shook away all the depressive thoughts, returning his attention to Jinyoung’s novel.

‘Rise and shine, baby.’

Waking Jisung up was not an easy task. The boy not only possessed the uncanny ability to doze off anywhere, but also slept like a log. Mark removed the duvet and pinched his nose gently. As expected, no response. He used Mr Fox’s tail to tickle Jisung’s cheek. The boy stirred but merely buried his head into the pillow and continued to sleep.

‘Mr Fox says if you don’t get up, he’ll finish your milk.’  
Silence.  
‘Alright, Daddy is giving it to Mr Fox.’  
‘Noooo Mrfocolsisdfj skdjfh.’  
Mark chuckled at the gibberish, ‘then Jisung needs to get up.’  
‘But Sungie very sleepy,’ the kid whined while wriggling on the bed.  
‘Should I tell Youngjae you’re too sleepy for piano lesson?’  
‘Nooooooo!’

Jisung sat up, rubbing his eyes groggily. He might be very very very sleepy but he wanted to play the piano with Otter-hyung very very very much. Besides, Jackson-hyung would take him to the park after class. At that thought, the child was immediately awake. After breakfast, Mark brought Jisung upstairs to Youngjae’s.

‘Morning, Jisung,’ Youngjae greeted with a warm smile, ‘morning, Mark-hyung.’  
‘G’morning, Otter-hyung! What songs are we playing today?’  
‘I’ll let you choose if you do well.’  
The kid disappeared into the piano room.  
‘Jackson will pick up Jisung,’ said Mark, ‘thanks Youngjae.’  
‘No problem, hyung. Jisung is my favourite student,’ Youngjae winked.

Mark planned to edit the translation one last time before submitting it to Jackson. It was easy to overlook mistakes after working for ten hours straight. He debated for a second whether he should make another cup of coffee. And of course, Americano always appealed to the American.

Mark hit send right at midday. Still high from caffeine, he decided to do the household chores he had neglected yesterday. Laundry, washing dishes, cleaning and restocking. At 4pm, Mark finally finished all the chores and took a much needed power nap. He had looked forward to the meetup at B’Chill tonight as Bambam and Yugyeom had closed the cafe last month for a well-deserved break. 

The 27-year-old felt like dressing nicely, even though it was just another weekly dinner. Instead of track suit pants and oversized graphic tees, he threw on a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a form-fitting white tee. He even wore a necklace. Bambam should definitely stop complaining about the way he dressed for once. After all, he did not need to look good when he’s just out to fetch Jisung from kindergarten right?

‘Mark-hyung!’

Yugyeom leapt into his embrace as soon as he set foot in B’Chill. Some customers looked at them curiously. Mark cast an apologetic smile, even though his heart melted a little at Yugyeom’s affectionate gesture. It’s cute, really, to see the giant maknae acting like an overexcited Golden Retriever. Bambam shoved his boyfriend aside to hug his Mark-hyung.

‘You look great today, bro.’  
‘I look great every day.’  
‘Jackson-hyung said you’ll come late.’  
‘I pulled an all-nighter so I finished early.’  
‘No wonder your dark circles put pandas to shame.’  
‘Kunpimook Bhuwakul!’

Yugyeom ordered Mark to relax, have some frappe and enjoy their new recipe. The couple busied themselves behind the counter. Bambam stole a peck from Yugyeom’s lips when he thought nobody was paying attention. It reminded Mark of the times when Brian would kiss him out of the blue in front of their friends. And Bambam would yell ‘ewww’ overdramatically.

‘Hi, can I sit here?’ a handsome man interrupted his reminiscence.  
Mark nodded and moved his book away.  
‘Did you enjoy the novel so far? I think it’s better than _Dark Places_.’  
Though astonished, Mark replied, ‘sure, she builds the tension much more effectively this time.’  
‘Are you a fan of crime thriller?’  
‘Yeah.’  
‘I’m Siwon. What’s your name?’  
‘Mark.’

The pair chatted animatedly about books and films, totally unaware of the knowing glances and smug grins from Bambam and Yugyeom. It’s about time Mark-hyung got back to the dating scene.

‘The cafe will close soon,’ Siwon tried to act calm, ‘do you want to talk over dinner perhaps?’  
The maknaes pumped their fists in victory.  
Mark blinked, registering Siwon’s intention only then, ‘um, I’d love to but –’

‘Daddy!’

Jisung wriggled out of Jackson’s arms and rushed to his father. Siwon’s eyes darted between Mark and Jackson. He rubbed his nose in embarrassment of being caught flirting with a married man. By his husband even! He left after mumbling a goodbye.

Shortly afterwards, Yugyeom closed the shop. Bambam prepared Thai dishes as per Jisung’s request. The kid munched Pad Thai happily between Mark and Yugyeom. When the adults were talking about the maknaes’ trip to Europe and Jackson’s recent interpretation task, Jisung threw in comments that cracked everyone up, except Mark. 

Jackson noticed his best friend seemed quieter than usual. His smile was somewhat strained and his high-pitched giggles were absent. At first, he attributed it to exhaustion but then he caught Mark stare at his right hand. Jackson had enough of it. They had shied away from the discussion for too long. Someone needed to open Mark’s eyes.

Jisung had dozed off before Bambam served dessert, probably tired out by his adventure in the park. Yugyeom put him on the chair bed specially kept for this purpose. Silence veiled the cafe like a layer of fog. 

‘Tuan Yien, the only person standing in your way is you.’

Jackson emanated a commanding presence when he spoke English, his voice low and firm with a core. Yugyeom and Bambam turned their heads at him, hanging to each and every word he had to offer. But the man paid the maknaes no mind. He looked at Mark with an athlete’s single-mindedness, demanding a response.

‘I dunno what you’re talking about.’

Mark picked at the mango sticky rice. How would he not know? It was a quote from his favourite film. Jackson used to say that to knock some sense into him. The sentence had motivated him to accept Brian’s confession.

Jackson took away his spoon, ‘tell me you don’t want somebody to love you the way he did.’  
‘I don’t have time for relationships,’ the single parent sighed, ‘you know that.’  
‘I’m not asking whether you have time for it. I’m asking you to convince me you don’t want that.’  
‘I don’t want that.’  
‘Look at me in the eyes.’

Mark forced himself to meet Jackson’s unwavering gaze for a brief moment. He could not find his voice to say that. He could not find his voice to say that while looking at Jackson.

‘Stop making up excuses for yourself. You say you have no time. But you know perfectly well that we’re happy to look after Jisung while you go on a date. You say Jisung might not like to share his Dad. Fine. But we’ve had talks with him. You heard how he’s totally on board with the idea of his Daddy having a boyfriend.’

Jackson ruffled his hair in agitation. Yugyeom was about to say something to ease the tension but shut his mouth as soon as the second oldest cast him a no-nonsense glance.

‘Your son is more mature than kids of his age. He understands the world much more than you give him credit for. He knows there will be changes to his life if you start seeing somebody. He knows he may not be happy about that until he’s adjusted to it. But he also knows it will make you happy, and eventually it will make him happy.’

Jackson did not put words in his son’s mouth. The three dongsaengs had studied how to broach such a difficult topic with a young child. They had explained the idea to Jisung using different approaches on many occasions. Jisung showed genuine understanding on the dilemma and gave support to Mark’s pursuit of a new relationship. Mark found himself unable to refute, even if just for the sake of it.

‘And then you’ll tell us you’re not over Brian. He gave you a promise ring. And you swore in front of his grave you would do both parents’ part in raising Jisung. We understand. I absolutely respect that. But have you acknowledged the possibility that, in fact, Brian will always occupy an important position in your heart?’

A tear trickled down Mark’s cheek. Yugyeom put his arm around him and dabbed away the tear with the other hand. It was not like Mark had not considered the possibility. He simply could not come to terms with it yet. It was really okay to love two people at the same time, wasn’t it?

‘Mark, I’m not asking you to put yourself before Jisung. And I’m not asking you to replace Brian. I’m just saying you’re entitled to live this life for yourself as much as for anybody else.

‘Go out. Find somebody who loves you. Nothing is in your way.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally back with a single parent AU! I've wanted to write it since I saw an [edit](https://twitter.com/mintho1025/status/1079369153792729088) of how Jisung resembles Mark and YoungK. I hope you find the interaction between Mark and kid Jisung cute! Updates will be slow and irregular but I'll try my best :) Tell me what you think about the story!
> 
> The bits of "The Little Match Girl" are mainly from [this page](https://www.storyberries.com/fairy-tales-the-little-match-girl-by-hans-christian-andersen/) and the quote is from Black Swan.
> 
> (Chapter title from GOT7's 'Take me to you')


	2. What can I do?

It started raining soon after they left B’Chill. Jackson pulled his foldable umbrella over the three of them. Unfazed by a thunder, Jisung continued to slumber on his father’s shoulder. Jackson shifted the umbrella to the left to make sure Mark would not get wet.

The pair walked quietly in the September shower. The earthy scent of freshness flowed with breezes, reminding Jackson of the drizzling nights back in college years. Before Mark moved in with Brian, they used to go to the convenience store near the dorm at night. They would huddle under Jackson’s small umbrella and share a pack of dual ice lollies.

Nostalgia was interrupted by a gush. Mark tried not to shiver but Jackson could feel the goosebumps on his arm. The Californian had always been intolerant of cold weather. Like many other rainy nights, Jackson wrapped his arm around his best friend to protect him from wind and rain. And like many other rainy nights, the younger wished he were a bit taller. Maybe as tall as Brian, who could cover Mark’s petite frame perfectly.

It took them another ten minutes to arrive at the apartment building. Mark and Jisung lived in a small flat. Jackson had once offered to share a larger one with them. But the father had declined, saying that Jackson would not be able to bring people home. He had almost blurted out he did not want to bring strangers home. 

The security guard greeted them with a warm smile and pressed the lift for them. Jackson suddenly wondered since when the ahjussi stopped asking him to fill out the visitor log. He helped Mark check the mailbox before taking the lift up.

‘Right pocket?’

Asking only as a rhetorical question, Jackson fished out the keys from Mark’s right pocket. Some things never changed, especially for people like Mark. His habit. His passion. His heart. His heart, in particular. In one smooth motion, the younger tossed the keys on the kitchen counter, shoved the dripping umbrella into a bucket and knelt down to undo Mark’s shoelaces.

‘You’re gonna fuss after stepping inside with outdoor shoes.’  
‘There will be germs and Jisung may get sick!’  
‘Shhh, you don’t want to wake your son.’  
‘Take off his shoes too.’

Mark lowered his son onto the bed very slowly. The father could not help but chuckle at those drool stains. Mr Fox was put next to his pillow in case Jisung needed some fluffy cuddles at night. The boy immediately snuggled closer to the plushie. Mark pulled the blanket over Jisung and pressed a kiss on his forehead, ‘goodnight baby.’ Mark probably did not notice his best friend observing him from the doorframe. After all, he only had eyes for his child.

‘What are you smiling at?’ the American grinned. Jackson’s smile was infectious.  
‘Nothing,’ he rubbed his nose, ‘I should get going.’  
‘You’re not going back in the downpour, mister.’  
‘I don’t want to sleep on the couch.’  
Mark started digging through his tiny closet, ‘you can sleep on my bed.’  
‘Wow, Mark Tuan!’ the younger exclaimed, ‘tell me I’m the only person receiving an invitation to your bed!’  
‘You are, happy?’ Mark threw the clothes at him, ‘now go shower.’  
‘Yes sir,’ a wide smile blossomed on Jackson’s face.

After shower, they crowded into Mark’s single bed. The pair just laid there, under faint table lamp light, without exchanging a word. Jackson used to complain about his best friend’s quietness. He even went as far as to compare talking to Mark with talking to a wall. Over the years, he had mastered the art of deciphering Mark’s silence. The older wanted to say something but did not know how to begin. Propping up by his elbow, Jackson brushed away the fringe blocking Mark’s eyes. As expected, his gaze was distant and his lips pursed slightly.

‘Hey, talk to me,’ the Hongkonger prompted in English.  
Mark let out a heavy sigh, ‘do you really think I can do it?’  
Despite the ambiguous pronoun, Jackson knew what the older was referring to, ‘of course.’

‘Apart from having a son, I’m old and boring and unattractive. I never know how to flirt. I can’t even hold a proper conversation with strangers. I don't know what Brian saw in me all those years ago. And I certainly don't have anything to offer now. I just – I’m scared, Jacks. It is intimidating, the mere thought of putting myself out there. I don't wanna become a joke or a charity case.’

Mark burst into tears as the suppressed thoughts exploded in one go. Jackson pulled him into a tight embrace. He wanted to knock some sense into him. He wanted to tell him he was not allowed to question his worth. He wanted to confess the person next to him had always loved and would always love him. But what could Jackson do?

The fool he was for him.

‘Believe it or not, a lot of people actually don't mind dating single parents. I didn't make it up. You can google that on your own. You’re only 27. If you call yourself old, you’re calling my 27-year-old self old too! I must fight you on that!’

Mark chuckled at Jackson’s lame joke. Their friends always said no one made Mark laugh like Jackson did. But in fact, no one made Jackson smile like Mark did either. Just that nobody had pointed it out.

‘About attractiveness, I’m sure the stranger in the cafe will disagree. He looked smitten by you, bro. It may take time for you to come out of your shell. But once you do, they will find themselves enamoured with your personality. Do you know you’re very attractive when you take care of Jisung? And when you talk about things you’re passionate about, your eyes will sparkle. I think you – we think you’re beautiful.’

Jackson gulped at his mistake. He tended to lose his filter when Mark looked at him like that. All focused and innocent and pouty. His heart pounded rigorously against his rib cage, fighting for liberation. No. Snap out of it, Jackson. Mark did not like you that way.

‘Somebody is waiting for you. Go and get him.’

The next day went by quickly. The three of them cooked brunch together. The adults took turn to play badminton with Jisung. On Monday, Mark sent Jisung to school. Afterwards, he followed the same routine. Work a bit. Do housework. Make lunch. Buy ingredients for dinner. Pick Jisung up.

Today, Mark left the wet market a little later than usual. The auntie at the vegetable stall wanted to know everything about his son. When the father arrived at the kindergarten, Miss Bae was already sending the children off at the gate. Jisung was hanging out with his best friends at the sandpit.

‘Jisung, your father is here!’ Miss Bae announced.  
The boy broke into a wide smile, ‘Daddy! Look at my castle!’  
‘It’s beautiful,’ Mark complimented, ‘did you build it with Hyunjin and Yeji?’  
‘Yes, I draw the windows!’ the little girl beamed.  
‘Great job,’ Mark ruffled her hair, ‘Hyunjin and Jisung too.’

‘Appa!’ the Hwang siblings ran to the well-built man behind Mark.  
‘Oh hello, Chansung-hyung,’ surprise was evident in Mark’s voice, ‘where’s noona?’  
‘She’s on a trip,’ Chansung pouted.  
Mark chuckled at the cute expression, ‘try not to miss her too much.’  
‘Daddy, I’m hungry,’ Jisung looked at his father with anticipation, ‘can we eat cheesecake please?’  
‘Alright, let’s say goodbye first.’  
‘Bye bye Miss Bae! Bye bye Uncle Chansung! Bye bye Hyunjinnie! Bye bye Yeji!’  
‘See you tomorrow.’

Jisung basically bounced his way to B’Chill. The boy enjoyed cakes made by Bambam and Yugyeom. He had drawn pictures of desserts served in the shop and even created songs for choco cake and cheesecake. The cafe was quite full since many students bought drinks after class.

‘Hi, Mark-oppa! What does Jisung want today?’ Jimin, one of the regular staff, greeted them.  
‘Sorry Jisungie,’ Bambam called out from the coffee machine, ‘hyung is busy today.’  
‘Hwaiting!’ Jisung cheered them on.  
Mark made his way to the cake cabinet, ‘can I take a piece of cheesecake?’  
‘Sure,’ Yugyeom replied as he emerged from the kitchen.

Mark helped himself to it while some schoolgirls cooed at his son. Soon, they were ready to head out. Oblivious to his surroundings, Mark bumped right into the man who was looking at the cake cabinet. He was about to apologise but the once familiar face astounded him.

The last time they saw each other was at Brian’s birthday party. Sungjin was as handsome as his 23-year-old self, though more sophisticated in that expensive suit. Well, he had always been the most mature one out of the six of them. Mark wondered what important position the chaebol son now occupied in his family business.

‘Daddy?’ Jisung asked tentatively.

Mark felt his heartbeat pick up as the older man stared at his son for a moment too long. A million thoughts whirled in Sungjin’s dark eyes. The father knew he was connecting the dots – why Mark did not attend Brian’s funeral, why Mark changed all his contacts and why Mark never showed up in gatherings. It was not a difficult task as the older was familiar with the ways of chaebol families.

Sungjin’s voice was shaky, ‘is this –’  
‘This is my son,’ Mark interrupted firmly, ‘baby, say hi to Sungjin-hyung.’  
The child bowed politely, ‘hello Sungjin-hyung. My name is Tuan Jisung. I’m four years old.’

The businessman swallowed hard. His fists clenched and unclenched. He ran his hand over his styled hair, swearing under his breath. Sungjin took a look at Mark, who refused to meet his eyes. If they were not in public, he would have turned a table over. How could they do that to Mark? How could they do that to their grandson? How could they do that to Younghyun?

Sungjin spat through gritted teeth, ‘I cannot believe the Kangs –’  
‘Sungjin-ah, it’s alright,’ Mark smiled faintly and squeezed his son’s little hand, ‘Jisung is still with me. It’s all that matters.’  
The older wanted to argue but decided not to make things difficult for Mark.

‘Sungjin-hyung is Daddy’s friend?’ Jisung cocked his head.  
Sungjin crouched down to the child’s level, ‘hyung went to school with your Daddy. He sometimes watched hyung play guitar.’  
‘Daebak!’ the boy’s face lit up at the word guitar, yet a pout quickly followed, ‘Daddy says I can only play the guitar when I’m older – but I play the piano now!’  
‘Jisung is brilliant. What do you want to be when you grow up?’  
‘I want to perform in a band like Papa did.’

Sungjin and Mark choked at the reply. The father bit his lips hard, willing himself to calm down. He had to stop getting emotional every time his son talked about his aspiration. The businessman was overcome by a wave of emotions. The resemblance between Jisung and Brian was too bittersweet.

‘Iced Americano for Sungjin-ssi please.’

‘Alright, Jisung, we should let Sungjin-hyung get his coffee.’  
‘Bye bye Sungjin-hyung.’  
‘Sungjin-ah, it’s good to see you today. Take care.’  
‘Wait!’

The businessman stopped Mark on his track. He rummaged through his suitcase for his business card and scribbled something on it. Jae’s birthday dinner at Gravity at 8pm on Saturday.

‘I hope you’ll come that day. My brother will be very happy.’

Throughout the week, Mark had a heated debate with himself whether he should attend Jae’s birthday party. What if Jae got mad at Sungjin for inviting Mark without his permission? What if Jae did not want to see him? What if Jae no longer considered him a friend? For once, the American wanted to believe in fate.

‘Daddy goes to see guitar-hyung?’ Jisung asked when they were approaching Jackson’s place.  
‘Guitar-hyung?’ Mark pressed the doorbell.  
‘Sungjin-hyung plays guitar,’ Jisung explained, ‘so he’s guitar-hyung.’

Jackson answered the door promptly. Jisung ran into the living room, aiming for the giant Buzz Lightyear on the couch. Mark trailed after the owner into the apartment. 

‘Everything you need is in the overnight bag,’ the father showed Jackson the content of the Pikachu backpack, ‘even Mr Fox is here. If there’s any circumstance, call me. Are you with me, Jacks?’

Jackson was staring at him without giving any response. It made Mark worry whether the younger was feeling under the weather. Jackson quickly assured that his mind simply wandered off for a second. In fact, he had been busy checking his best friend out. A gold necklace drew attention to the low neckline, highlighting Mark’s smooth chest.

‘You look great tonight,’ Jackson complimented before he could stop himself, ‘I mean, it’s been a while since you dress up like this. All black suits you well. It brings out your fair complexion. You should wear skinny slacks more often. To show off your legs, you know.’

A lovely shade of pink dusted Mark’s cheeks, ‘thanks Jacks, I need that confidence boost.’  
‘It’s gonna be fine,’ the younger massaged his nape, ‘you know Jae since day 1.’  
‘Right,’ Mark nodded stiffly, ‘I should go now.’  
‘Jisung, why don’t you kiss Daddy goodbye?’  
The boy scurried over to give Mark a smooch, ‘have fun Daddy. Say hi to guitar-hyung please.’  
‘Sure,’ the father returned the gesture, ‘be good for Jackson-hyung, alright?’  
‘Yes sir!’ Jisung mock saluted.

Situated in the heart of Itaewon, Gravity stood out from all the bars and clubs nearby with its shopfront. Turquoise and magenta and green visualised its vibrancy. Mark adjusted his black satin blouse before going through the door. The dark interior posed a stark contrast. The galaxy aesthetics went surprisingly well with the geometric patterns on the walls. Sensuality floated under the dim lighting.

Mark could hear languid voices of guests chatting with each other. No music was playing though? After all, Gravity was renowned for its live performances. His eyes narrowed on the currently empty stage. There were guitars and scores sitting around. Hopefully, he would enjoy some good music tonight. A manager led him to a table occupied by one person. The silhouette belonged to Jae. Park Jaehyung. His first friend in Korea.

‘Hey.’

Mark greeted tentatively, crumpling his shirt in a grip. It was difficult to infer from Jae’s widened eyes whether he was a happy surprise or an unpleasant shock. Not until the older engulfed him in a suffocating embrace.

‘So you’re the special guest.’  
‘Did Sungjin really say that?’  
‘Yeah, I thought he’s gonna bring a girlfriend or a boyfriend.’  
‘I hope you aren’t too disappointed.’  
‘Well who cares if he stays single? Now sit down, bro!’

Jae looked pretty much the same as Mark remembered. The sole difference was a bigger pair of eye circles. It was inevitable, really, when Jae was the eldest son of the most influential chaebol family. Mark could not imagine Mr Mischief heading the largest business in Korea.

‘I know I’m handsome but stop staring,’ Jae protested despite his pink cheeks.  
Mark stuck out his tongue, ‘we both know that I’m better looking.’  
‘Says who?’  
‘Your bandmates all agree.’  
‘Speaking of which, where the hell are they?’

Electric guitar opened the performance with a solid but rhythmic rift. Drum points gave pulse to the music. Rich sounds from acoustic guitars and a keyboard developed the monophonic line into a thicker texture. Spot lights illuminated the stage where five men were performing. Mark exchanged a look of amaze with Jae. The band was none other than DAY6, except that the electric guitarist was an unfamiliar face.

The man possessed a strong but not overwhelming stage presence. A black leather jacket accentuated his broad shoulders, bringing out the best of his large frame. The slight curve of his long fringe mellowed out the sharpness of his jawline. The guitarist flashed Sungjin a grin, revealing his pearly whites. The warmth of the beam, though unexpected, balanced his cool appearance. He was more stunning than just a handsome face.

‘– You’re too much. Why do you drive me crazy?’ Wonpil complained with a pout.  
‘You’re bad, and I know it,’ Junhyeok sang in exasperation, ‘but why the hell am I chasing you? Ooh – ooh –’  
Sungjin pushed the energy to another level, ‘what can I do? I’ve already fallen for you. You’re messing with me and I like it. I can’t help it. That’s how I am.’

The stranger locked eyes with Mark.  
‘What can I do?’  
That voice was like mint chocolate, sweet but refreshing.  
‘I’m pathetic but what can I do?’  
The man shrugged in a cute way, making the American grin.  
‘I just like being with you.’  
No matter how earnest he sounded, Mark must resist his charm.  
‘I know I’m such a fool.’

Dowoon seized everyone’s attention with a flamboyant break. The arrangement was rapid, intense and complicated. Mark and Jae were enthralled as the youngest played with ease and confidence. Only a certain performer found another person more entrancing.

Wonpil eased back in, ‘the smile you showed me some time keeps haunting me. Again and again, I’m saying I miss you.’  
‘The texts you sent me some day, I keep looking through them and smile. I know, I already know that I’m a fool,’ Junhyeok added.  
‘You’re bad, and I know it,’ Sungjin shook his head, ‘but why the hell am I chasing you? Ooh – ooh –’

Once again, Mark found the guitarist zoom in on him.  
‘What can I do?’  
That guy got to stop asking questions. He honestly did not have a clue.  
‘I’ve already fallen for you.’  
His heart pounded erratically for no reason.  
‘You’re messing with me and I like it.’  
The feeling was uncanny but he could not bring himself to hate it.  
‘I can’t help it. That’s how I am.’

Sungjin joined the stranger in a duet. Both melodic lines were intriguing and added colour to the piece. Their distinctive voices complemented each other well.

‘What can I do?’  
‘I’m pathetic but what can I do?’  
‘I just like being with you.’  
‘I know I’m such a fool.’

The band received rapturous applause from the audience. Jae stood up and whistled. Mark clapped more enthusiastically than usual. For the third time in a row, the guitarist sought eye contact with him. The American bit his lip, unsure what to make of the observation. Still, he decided to return an appreciative smile for his brilliant performance.

‘My brother, Jaehyung-hyung, will turn 28 soon and our friend, Mark, celebrated his birthday a week ago. Tonight, we’re gonna dedicate three self-composed songs to them as a birthday present. The one you hear just now is “What Can I Do”. The next songs are “Hi Hello” and “Time of Our Life”. Please enjoy!’

As soon as the last note faded into the air, Wonpil and Dowoon dropped their instruments and rushed off the stage. They showed how much they missed Mark through a bone crushing hug. That was undoubtedly a DAY6 thing, he chuckled to himself. He felt tiny in the maknae sandwich, even though they were merely a few centimetres taller. Sungjin carried them away by the scruff of the neck. In front of him stood the charismatic stranger. Mark noticed when the man smiled, his eyes turned into small crescents which he found so endearing. The guitarist extended his hand to him –

‘Hi hello, I’m Jaebeom.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum and Mark finally meet each other :D What will happen over wine and music (smirk)? Tell me what you think!
> 
> Lyrics are from colourcodedlyrics and the MV, with slight editing.
> 
> (Chapter title from DAY6's 'What can I do')


	3. We need to go deeper

Jaebeom wanted to write.

He fidgeted in his seat, stealing glances of the man across the table. Mark, he had told him his name. The way he’d rolled his tongue at the r did not sit well with Jaebeom. He picked up the glass of water in front of him, took a sip, put it down and took another sip. A fuzzy feeling bubbled in his brain. He tried to gulp as much oxygen as discreetly possible. Luckily, everyone was too engrossed in the conversation to notice his heaves.

Jaebeom could not focus on the content. Words like cafe, cake cabinet and encounter drifted in and out of his ears. The warmness in his head began to spread. If he was put under a thermal imaging camera, he would see the orange glow run at an alarming speed from his neck, his chest, to his torso.

Mark was an epitome of stories. Not because of what this stranger had gone through, or what Jaebeom thought he had gone through, but of what his existence could entail. The idea scared the author. It seemed wrong to perceive Mark as a source of creativity and an embodiment of creativity at the same time. How could he ever see a person like that? Like a symbol instead of bone and flesh?

His mind wandered to a synesthetic character from his old work. If Iris met Mark, would she see rainbow? Would she see white? Or black? Even though Jaebeom did not know Mark, he had a hunch there were layers and lumps of paint beneath his translucent skin. Pastel yellow for his tenderness. Scarlet for his passion. Powder blue for his melancholy. Raven for his fear. The visual richness, though nonexistent, overwhelmed the writer. He became hyperaware of the swish and swirl on the ends of his nerves.

Deep breaths did not calm his vigorous brain activity. Rather, Jaebeom seemed to catch a whiff of Mark’s scent as if a sudden evolution occurred. But of course, that was purely imaginary. He merely recalled it from the brief proximity when they made an introduction. Jaebeom would say – forgive his lack of vocabulary – Mark smelled nice. A hint of baby lotion mixing with orange flower and patchouli. An odd combination which worked well for someone so pure and alluring at the same time. Jaebeom wished he could blame his dizziness on Mark, for even his toes and his fingertips were tingling now.

Wonpil asked with concern, ‘Jaebeom-hyung, you okay?’  
‘You look flushed,’ Junhyeok pointed out, ‘is it stuffy on your side?’  
‘It’s fine. I’ll just take off my jacket,’ Jaebeom shrugged.

A waitress brought each of them a pint of beer while two waiters placed food on their table. A huge portion of pork ribs, two sharing platters, three large pizzas and four bowls of salad. They ordered enough food to feed five households. Wait, no, the amount was just right. Sungjin-hyung drooled over the pizza and Dowoon looked ready to attack the pork ribs.

Mark winked at him mischievously, eliciting a goofy grin from the chic author. That man was driving him nuts. One minute Mark was ethereal and the next minute he was adorable. If his readers later found his work schizophrenic, they should hold Mark accountable.

The gang enjoyed the feast in childish bickering - a given in Jaehyung-hyung’s presence - and anecdotes from school and work. Mark preferred eating over speaking, but from time to time, Jaebeom would hear his high-pitched giggles. That fuzzy feeling would simmer angrily in his head, threatening to burst through his skull. 

As they consumed (a verb used by sass king Jaehyung-hyung) the food, they went through another round of beer. Jaebeom was not even close to tipsy, yet he found his self-restraint thinning. The more he looked at Mark, the harder it was to look away. He did not want to miss a millisecond when each might turn out differently. There was no such thing as discovery because there was nothing to be discovered. The throb at the back of his skull hastened to match the explosion of thoughts. Somehow, a quantum physics experiment stuck. Jaebeom wondered where he heard of it since none of his friends went far in physics. Oh, it was because the experiment was related to cats.

According to the article, a cat was placed in a sealed box with a radioactive source and a poison that would be triggered if an atom of the radioactive substance decayed. The superposition theory of quantum physics suggested that until someone opened the box, the cat was both alive and dead, a superposition of states. Opening the box to observe the cat caused it to abruptly change its quantum state randomly, forcing it to be either dead or alive.

Mark blinked at him curiously as if asking whether he was alright. Of course he was not. Nothing in the world made sense any more. Possessed by an urge to write, Jaebeom grabbed his note pad from the table and hastily excused himself to the bathroom.

Inside a cubicle, the author scribbled at a furious speed.

‘Jaebeom-ssi, are you okay?’

The writer was startled by Mark’s voice. He did not know exactly how long he had been holing up in the cubicle, but several poems were created. Jaebeom blinked as if waking up from the dark to confront bright lights. The creative outburst felt surreal. He would compare it to hypnosis. Three rapid knocks snapped him out of the internal dialogue. Mark probably expected some response.

Against better judgement, Jaebeom opened the cubicle door and came face to face with the older, who obviously did not expect the abrupt move. This guy was so damn infuriating. At such an intimate distance, Jaebeom could see how long his eyelashes were. How glossy his eyes were. How bitten his lip was. He had to swallow hard before speaking, or his voice might give away his erratic heartbeat.

‘I – er – I was just writing, y’know. Inspiration suddenly comes.’  
‘Oh, sorry to interrupt!’  
‘No! I mean – er – I’m glad you come.’  
‘You do?’  
‘Yes – er – can you hold this for me? I wanna wash my hands.’

Mark took the note pad from the author, who wet his hands under running water. Jaebeom surveyed the other man’s reflection in the mirror. Mark licked his lip, head down, staring at the direction of his note pad.

‘Is this what you’ve written just now?’ Mark met his gaze, ‘would you let me read it?’  
‘Of course,’ Jaebeom agreed way too enthusiastically.  
The older gave him a thankful smile.

Jaebeom took his time to apply liquid soap. He massaged the lather between his palms, on the back of his hands, between his fingers, on the fingertips. Mark was about to finish the last poem. Jaebeom rubbed the lather on the back of his fingers, the dip of the thumbs and the wrists. Mark flipped to the second last page. The author rinsed his hands thoroughly, making sure no soap remained on his skin. He fetched paper towel from the automatic machine.

‘Are you a poet?’ the reader asked as they exited the bathroom.  
Jaebeom shook his head, with a small smile on his face, ‘I call myself an author. My published works are mainly novels and short stories.’  
‘Under your full name? Lim Jaebeom?’ Mark remembered Wonpil mention it.  
‘No,’ the author replied, ‘I go by a pseudonym.’  
Disappointment marred Mark’s features, ‘oh, that’s a secret, isn’t it?’  
‘Why do you want to know?’  
‘Your works are fascinating,’ the older confessed, ‘I’d love to translate them.’  
That piqued his interest, ‘you are a translator?’  
‘Yeah, albeit not a great one.’

‘What languages do you work in?’  
‘My native language is English. Korean and Chinese are second languages.’  
‘Impressive. It’s hard enough to master one language.’  
‘I don't really “master” a language. I’m sure you understand what I mean.’  
‘Yes, of course, slippage happens.’

Mark slipped on spilled beer and fell backwards. Out of reflex, Jaebeom caught him in his arm. Their chests heaved in sync till he noticed the mole between Mark’s pecs. A hue of blood red flashed in the author’s eyes. His fingers dug into that trim waist. Deeper and deeper until the translator wriggled out of his claw. A jinx indeed.

A waiter apologised profusely for the accident. Mark did not mind at all and offered him kind words. He even nudged at Jaebeom as the waiter seemed wary about his unconscious scowl. The younger cast a tight-lipped smile before escorting Mark back to their table. 

Jaebeom could not shake away that fuzzy feeling. It had slithered into his rib cage, gnawed his insides and threatened to take an evil turn. Another outburst was impending, but this time rougher, hotter and dirtier.

After devouring the birthday cake, the group hopped to Entropy, the best club in Itaewon. Like Gravity, Entropy was also owned by Junhyeok’s family. And the two establishments were designed by the same person. That explained their similar decor. 

Tropical house beat enlightened Jaebeom as to why Jaehyung-hyung demanded clubbing all of a sudden. The eldest no doubt wanted to celebrate birthday with his other friends KARD. Jaebeom had met the four DJs before. Their talent left a strong impression. Trust KARD to hype up a crowd.

It was only midnight so the dance floor was not too packed. The atmosphere was just right for people who were beyond the partying age. The manager was a charming woman called Yubin. She beckoned them to a VIP box near the DJ station. With a playful grin, she stepped aside to reveal a four-tier champagne tower.

It was a grandiose to see Yubin pop open bottles and bottles of champagne. The sight of golden liquid overflowing into the glasses conjured up images of wine trickling down Mark’s lithe body. Jaebeom would gladly trace it with his tongue. Out of the corner of his eyes, the author found Jaehyung-hyung whisper at Mark’s ear. He grinned so widely that his canines were on full display. Pet peeves flared along Jaebeom’s oesophagus to his frontal bone.

‘Happy birthday, Mr Park and Mr Tuan!’ Yubin smiled at the pair.

After Jae grabbed the uppermost glass, everyone took one from the next tiers and toasted to the birthday boys, to health and to friendship. Wonpil and Dowoon demanded that the Virgos down another. Mark raised the glass to his glistening lips and his head tilted backwards, showcasing the alignment of his glorious neck. Jaebeom would love to bite it hard. Leave a scar. Bond with him. The idea made his heart soar. And something else too. Sungjin-hyung threw him an unreadable look. What? Did he smell his pheromone now?

Yubin brought them a good mix of shots. Jaebeom did not peg Mark to the party type but the latter seemed to have extensive knowledge about drinking games, particularly American ones. No one was allowed to back out so the shots disappeared at an alarming pace. Yubin made sure booze never ran out — liqueur shots, vodka shots, mixed liquor shots — they had them all.

Mark was a clingy drunk. He would nuzzle Jaehyung-hyung’s neck. Press to Sungjin-hyung’s side. Pepper kisses on Wonpil’s cheek. Every time the American initiated skinship with somebody else, Jaebeom had to down a shot for temporary distraction. Mark somehow ended up resting his head near Jaebeom’s crotch. The writer would have pushed the temptation away if he was not intoxicated by liquor, baby lotion, orange flower and patchouli. Instead, he put his left hand on the translator’s hipbone, drawing languid circles with his thumb.

Soon, Jae got dragged to the dance floor by Matthew. Wonpil and Junhyeok followed suit. Dowoon plucked up liquid courage to talk to a cute girl while Sungjin went over to chat with Somin. The literati were left alone in the VIP box.

‘So what’s your pseudonym?’

‘You’re adamant,’ Jaebeom faltered as Mark nuzzled his face against his groin.  
The older whined, ‘this is an important quality of a translator.’  
‘Fine,’ Jaebeom decided to get back at Mark for his growing bulge, ‘let’s have a guessing game.’  
‘Arghhhhh! You stupid author! With a lower case a!’  
Jaebeom chuckled at the Barthe reference. He had to have Mark.

‘Let’s see. There are three shots left. How about this? I make a guess about your works and style. If I get it right, you drink. If I get it wrong, I drink. I’ll say a name after three clues. Loser has to do a sexy dance. Deal?’

Jaebeom agreed without hesitation. If he lost, he could taunt Mark with sinful body rolls. If Mark lost, the younger smirked, he would sit back and enjoy.

‘Your books straddle the line between Korean literature and popular fictions.’  
Jaebeom downed a B-52. Easy one.  
‘Recurring themes include romance, self-discovery and family drama.’  
The author pondered a moment before picking a Kamikaze.  
‘I think you’re gonna dance for me,’ the older giggled, ‘your publisher is Korea Publishing Company.’

He pushed a Blow Job to Mark. Kneeling down next to the low table, the translator flashed him a tantalising smile. He peered through his long lashes while gliding his tongue slowly over the cream. The tip melted on the wet plane unevenly as if the white substance was splattered. 

Mark bent over the shot glass. The skin-tight slacks accentuated the curve of his ass. Jaebeom’s hand twitched at the thought of spanking Mark until he begged for mercy. The translator must be dragging it out on purpose. He wriggled his butt in the most menacing manner. Jaebeom belatedly realised there was a grain of truth in erotica. It was entirely possible for some alpha men to lose their shit and start fucking in public. All you needed was the right person.

He pulled Mark up and pushed him onto the couch. He towered over the older with his large frame. Unable to think straight, Mark wrapped his arms around Jaebeom’s neck. The author swooped down for his plump lips. When their mouths touched, a mystic energy washed over his being and a fraction of his soul sprang to life. Jaebeom deepened the kiss to chase the newfound vitality. Perhaps due to heightened senses, the author tasted a fresh sweetness in Mark’s cavity. The older’s hand roamed about his torso beneath his shirt. Jaebeom could not take it anymore.

‘We need to go deeper.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy the style of this (chaotic) chapter. I thought it might be interesting to make this a little quirky since Jaebeom is an author. He is so whipped for Mark that he can barely control himself...
> 
> The part about Schrödinger’s cat is copied from [this article](https://news.yale.edu/2019/06/03/physicists-can-predict-jumps-schrodingers-cat-and-finally-save-it). Sorry I cannot paraphrase it.
> 
> (Chapter title from JB's 'Deeper')


	4. [Halloween SP] The man in Mirror of Erised!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Halloween SP] Last year, Jisung had an uncanny dream on Halloween…

‘Baby, we need to hurry. Daddy has a lot of errands to run in Diagon Alley.’

Jisung had been checking himself in the mirror. He had made an effort in his Halloween outfit. Gyeomie-hyung bought him a robe which had a scarlet stripe on the collar. Jackson-hyung lent him his old Gryffindor scarf. Bammie-hyung conjured up the most importantest things! A fake lightning scar and a pair of round glasses. Tonight, call him Jisung Potter!

The three-year-old sprinted to his father’s side, almost knocking over the pot of floo powder. Mark picked him up and he clung to his father. He did not want to exit at the wrong fireplace like Harry once did. The adult wizard tossed a handful of powder.

‘Diagon Alley!’

The precinct was so different from the last time Jisung visited. Each shop welcomed Halloween in its own way. Magical Managerie put an Acromantula on their shop sign. Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour promoted human blood flavour ice cream as season’s special. Even Gringotts hired some skeletons to hold ad boards for their new vault packages.

Many wizards and witches came out to celebrate Halloween. For a moment, Jisung was worried – what if he got lost and wandered into Knockturn Alley? Bammie-hyung swore he once saw a bad goblin who sold children’s intestines there. And Jackson-hyung said he might accidentally walk into a vanishing cabinet and never come back. All the bad thoughts dispersed when Mark smiled at him. Whatever happened, Jisung only had to hold on to Daddy tight.

They went to Quidditch Quality Supplies to pick up Yugyeom-hyung. Since he finished work at six, they had to wait another 15 minutes. Hyung’s supervisor was really nice. She allowed Jisung to ride on the newest Nimbus with Daddy. The pair glided around Diagon Alley and even encountered a hippogriff! Jisung could not help but agree with Harry. Forget floo powder, portkey or Apparition. Flying on a broom was the best!

As they had to meet Jackson in an hour, Mark and Yugyeom decided to split. The older went to Eeylops Owl Emporium, Madam Malkin’s and Potage’s Cauldron Shop. He had a laundry list – food for Milo, new pants for Jisung, self-repairing robes for Jackson, charmed leather gloves for Bambam, the dress robe for Yugyeom’s birthday and a silver cauldron. Last week, Jisung turned the cauldron into a toad. The week before that, he revived all the daisies in the garden. His father could only pray to Merlin nothing bad would happen because of his unstable magic.

Jisung always looked forward to the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. It sold all sorts of fun toys, joke products and muggle things. Besides, the twins were super nice and cracked great jokes. He fully understood why Bambam-hyung loved working. It must be fun!

‘Hello, Jisung,’ Fred shouted from the second floor, ‘hello, Yugyeom.’  
George emerged from the cashier, ‘hey there, young Potter. Let me give you a Halloween present.’  
‘Don’t worry, Yugyeom,’ the other twin assured the worried man, ‘we love Jisung.’

George pushed a wand to Jisung and asked him to wave it. At a swish, the wand turned into a chocolate frog and the amphibian immediately jumped behind some Skiving Snackboxes.

‘It’s gone,’ the child pouted, staring at the empty box wistfully.  
George patted his head, ‘we don't give you a boring chocolate frog, buddy.’  
‘Turn over the card,’ Fred prompted.

The boy squealed in delight. It’s the special edition of the Golden Trio collectible card! There were only seven of them in the world! And the Weasley brothers gave it to him!

‘Thank you so so so so so so so much!’ Jisung jumped in exhilaration and kissed the twins’ cheeks.  
George smiled at his excitement, ‘we don't just give it to anyone.’  
‘Work hard, young wizard,’ Fred ruffled his hair, ‘you may end up on the cards one day!’  
‘Bambam, are you done with makeup yet?’ George shouted at the staff attic.

On their way to the Leaky Cauldron, Jisung could not stop rambling. He told Bambam how amazing the Golden Trio card was, how nice the twins were and how impressed he was of the Trick Wand. Bambam did not expect his bosses to go to great lengths for Jisung. Not only did they consume several dozens of chocolate frogs, but they also devised a new product to present the gift creatively. The legendary jokesters just replaced Dumbledore as Bambam’s no.1 idols.

The pub was so full that there was no room to swing a Kneazle. Hannah Longbottom showed them to the table Mark and Jackson occupied. Jisung wriggled out of Bambam’s arms and ran to his godfather. He showed the Auror the precious chocolate frog card. As a seasoned collector, Jackson was as thrilled as the three-year-old. The card was arguably the most valuable one out of the 7777 cards they possessed. Since it warranted the highest level of security, Jisung entrusted the card to Jackson’s custody. Not even Death Eaters could lay hands on it!

‘Jackson, my mate,’ Neville fist bumped the Auror, ‘any drinks for you guys?’  
‘Daddy, can I have butterbeer please?’ Jisung pressed his hands together.  
Mark patted his head, ‘let’s drink it when you’re older, baby.’  
‘That’s right,’ Jackson added, ‘Coco felt funny after she had a sip last time.’  
‘But I’m not a house elf,’ Jisung retorted.  
‘You aren’t,’ Bambam explained, ‘but your body is smaller than Coco’s.’  
Yugyeom proposed, ‘how about pumpkin juice for everyone?’

It did not take long for the food to arrive. Hannah had recommended the Halloween set and everything looked great. Man-eating pea soup. Leaky steak and kidney pie. Roast hog. Pickled eel. Everyone enjoyed the meal.

‘Witches and wizards, good to see y’all on Halloween! Tonight, the Leaky Cauldron has invited a very special guest. His voice is sweeter than a siren’s and his personality is brighter than the sun. Yes, that’s him – the apprentice of Celestina Warbeck – Mr Choi Youngjae!’

‘Youngjae-hyung!’ Jisung cheered for his neighbour in his seat, ‘love you!’

Introduced by the drum rolls, the star wizard winked at the boy. Trumpets blasted out brassy notes and jazz piano played a countermelody. Witches went crazy when Youngjae threw them a finger heart. He swung with the rhythm and started to sing.

_I've got a cauldron full of hot, strong love_  
_And it's bubbling for you!_  
_Say Incendio, but that spell's not hot_  
_As my special wizard's brew!_

_Don't you be afraid, come and take a sip_  
_Of this steamy, tasty treat!_  
_What's in my cauldron full of hot, strong love_  
_Will make your life complete!_

Jisung suddenly felt himself sucked through a very tight rubber tube. He tried to scream for Daddy but every part of his body was compressed, including his vocal cord. He could not hear anything or see anything. The surrounding kept spinning until he landed on his butt.

He opened his right eye tentatively. Merlin’s pants! Where was he?

The ceiling was an enchanted sky full of stars. Some planets orbit a gigantic globe of the moon. A lot of charts and maps were displayed on the wall. Magnifying glasses, compasses and binoculars encircled him. Although the room was dimly lit, Jisung was not too scared. He thought he had been here before. At least, he did not think he landed in Borgin and Burkes.

‘Hello?’ the young wizard called out softly.

Jisung plucked up his courage to explore the area. The racks were neatly arranged to showcase more magical items. Crystal balls of various colours and materials. Hourglasses filled not with sand but with rubies. Silver omnioculars priced at 90 Galleons. As a polite child, he dared not touch anything. The last thing he wanted was to upset the owner. He continued to walk, hoping to bump into a customer or a shopkeeper. Somebody got to help him find his father. Daddy, Gaga, Bammie and Gyeomie must be worried sick by now.

A grand mirror stood at a corner of the store. It reminded Jisung of cathedrals as they had similar tall towers. Its frame was ancient and golden. Elaborate patterns were carved on the columns. A sentence was inscribed on the upper part. Marvelling at the regal mirror, the boy edged closer and closer.

‘Papa!’

Jisung squealed at the reflection and immediately turned around. No, no one was behind him. He turned back to the mirror, only to find Papa grinning at him. Papa ruffled his hair with his large hand. Although Jisung had seen his other parent in pictures, it was the first time he came this close. Papa was taller than Daddy, probably the same height as Gyeomie-hyung. He had a straight nose, sharp jawline, strong eyebrows. No wonder Jackson-hyung said he was a spitting image of Papa. The main difference was their eyes. He got Daddy’s round doe eyes while Papa got fox-like ones. 

Oh, Daddy came into the mirror too! 

Even though he had seen Bammie-hyung and Yugyeom-hyung kiss for a million times, Jisung was fascinated by the scene in front of him. Papa wrapped an arm around Daddy and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. The way Papa cupped Daddy’s face was so tender that Jisung melt into a puddle of goo. His parents were such a lovely couple.

Out of nowhere, a stranger donning a midnight blue robe approached his fathers. Jisung cocked his head in perplexity because he was not sure how that man could see things properly. He had never encountered somebody whose eyes were smaller than dots. His twin moles were cool though. His back was very very very broad too, maybe as wide as a Hippogriff’s wings. It looked great for piggyback rides. Papa exchanged a meaningful look with the wizard. He took Daddy’s hand and put it on Mr Small Eyes’ hand. Papa flashed him a mischievous wink and disappeared.

‘Papa! Papa! Come back, Papa!’

Jisung cried out in distress. His little fists banged on the glass surface. He tried to get to the other side of the mirror by scratching the column, knocking random spots on the plane and kicking the mirror’s legs. Perhaps he had to read the incantation! But how could he do that when he did not know any words?

‘E! R! I! S! E! D! S! T! R! A! E! H! R! U! O! Y!’

Suddenly, the lights flicked on. Jisung turned around instantly to find a princely wizard point a wand at him. The child threw his hands to the air and his legs went jelly. 

‘Sorry I swear I don’t touch anything,’ he declared at once.  
The handsome guy lowered his wand and crouched in front of him, ‘how did you get in, young man? Where are your parents?’  
‘I dunno,’ Jisung thought the man seemed kind, ‘was with Daddy in the Leaky Cauldron and suddenly got sucked to this place. Spinning and could not breathe.’  
‘Wow, I think you just Apparated,’ the older chuckled, showing cute eye whiskers, ‘I am Jinyoung. And you?’  
‘My name is Tuan Jisung. I am three years old.’

Jisung got picked up from the ground but he abruptly remembered what he was doing before the interruption. He wriggled out of Jinyoung’s arm and parked himself in front of the Mirror of Erised. Jinyoung wondered what a three-year-old would see.

‘What’s wrong, Jisung? Did you see something?’ Jinyoung sat beside him.  
‘Papa,’ the kid replied wistfully, ‘but Daddy said Papa went over the Veil.’  
Jinyoung caught on immediately and felt bad for his loss, ‘your Papa will look after you and your Daddy on the other side. Nothing stops love, not even the Veil.’  
‘Daddy says that too,’ Jisung said softly but firmly.

After a moment of silence, the child piped up, ‘there’s a stranger too.’  
‘A stranger?’  
‘Yes, a stranger with twin moles and wide shoulders and Papa gave Daddy’s hand to him!’

It sounded like Jaebeom? Jinyoung pondered in amusement. Perhaps divination held a grain of truth and his best friend would really marry a single parent. From Jisung’s manner and cleverness, his Daddy seemed to be a nice wizard. Besides, he must have good looks if Jisung took after him.

‘Shall we return to the Leaky Cauldron  
‘Yes, Jinyoung-hyung!’  
‘Alright, let’s go find your Daddy.’

‘Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. You took a long nap.’

Jisung rubbed his eyes groggily. He just had a very very very real dream about Harry Potter universe. Everyone was in it and there were two good-looking strangers too. Daddy laid a Gryffindor uniform on his bed. Oh right! The Halloween night party at Everland!

They met up with Jackson-hyung, Bammie-hyung and Yugyeom-hyung at the park entrance. They went to the Flying Elephants, the Spinning Cups and the Little Trains. Bammie-hyung shared a hotdog with him and Gyeomie-hyung bought him cotton candy. As a brave Gryffindor, Jisung surely could not miss the haunted house. He had seen plenty of ghosts floating in Hogwarts anyway. Jackson-hyung was really afraid so he held his hand tight throughout the walk. He had a lot of fun!

Daddy did not allow him to go for the fourth time so all of them went to a candy shop for trick or treat. Jisung was really excited because he saw children coming out with bags of sweets. He roamed about the place under adult supervision. Princess Aya gave him a Chupa Chups and Hulk put a pack of M&Ms in his cauldron. He exchanged White Rabbit Creamy Candies with other kids. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jisung caught a glimpse of a vaguely familiar man. With tiny eyes, twin moles and broad frame.

‘Stupefy!’ the child flicked his wand and rushed over to the stranger in a midnight blue robe.  
‘Oh, Mr Potter,’ the adult wizard chuckled, ‘brilliant spell!’  
‘I see you in dream just now,’ Jisung told him, ‘you in the Mirror of Erised.’  
‘Really?’ the man smiled at him fondly.  
Jisung nodded fervently, ‘and you wear the same clothe.’  
‘What’s your name?’  
‘Tuan Jisung. And you, hyung?’  
‘Lim Jaebeom.’

Jaebeom-hyung put a sweet on his palm. The treat was a hexagonal prism wrapped in an emerald candy wrapper with two silvery ends. It looked like the thing Dumbledore gave Ron. The one which helped him reunite with Hermione and Harry.

‘Deluminator chocolate for you. Happy Halloween, Jisung!’

Jaebeom-hyung winked at him before following his friend out of the store. The boy held the Deluminator chocolate close to his heart. One day, they would meet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel nostalgic when I was writing this Halloween Special. Harry Potter has been the reason I began writing fanfics. Then, I went into a slump for an extended period until I find Mark and GOT7. This chapter is quite special to me and I want to share with all of you~ 
> 
> Lyrics of 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love' are from Harry Potter Wiki.
> 
> Happy Halloween! x


	5. Till I crash and burn

Jaebeom and Mark got out of Entropy before things spiralled out of control. On the way back to the author’s apartment, Mark pressed close to his side and kept teasing him. Those slender fingers ran tantalisingly along the inner seam of his pants. Jaebeom would have lost it if the cabbie dropped them off a few minutes late.

As soon as they entered the flat, Jaebeom caged Mark against the wall and kissed him hungrily. He had been waiting for so long – not just the entire night, but his entire life. He never knew he needed his muse until he met this stranger by fate. Now he wanted more. He wanted to write about him. Write with him. Write _on_ him.

His lips rampaged through Mark’s neck and marred the snowy skin with hickeys. The author was determined to make a statement, however elusive and fleeting signs might be. He sucked particularly hard at the pulse point so that no reader would be able to miss it.

Mark leaned in for another round of intense snogging. Their lips crushed together as they met each other half way. The older pulled at Jaebeom’s lower lip with his pointy canine, making the other hiss in delicious pain. He exploited the opening to invade the author’s mouth but Jaebeom counterattacked with his skilful tongue. They fought a hard battle in Mark’s cavity, all wet and messy and aggressive. With each strategic glide from Jaebeom, the translator could no longer swallow his moans.

Mark whimpered, ‘Jae – Jaebeom –’  
‘You’re driving me nuts,’ he remarked between kisses, ‘I want to wreck you so badly.’  
‘And I want you to,’ the translator rolled against his hips to make a point.  
He groaned at the much needed friction, ‘how do you want me to?’

‘I want you to see how much of a slut I am for you.’  
Jaebeom growled at the thought of having Mark in any way.  
‘I’ll get on my knees. Pull your huge cock out.’

Mark kneeled in front of Jaebeom, his glazed eyes meeting the writer’s lust-filled ones. The belt hit the ground with a thud. Mark inched closer and closer to his hard member. Flashing him a mischievous smile, the older unzipped his pants with teeth. A surge of blood rushed south. His penis strained uncomfortably against his Calvin Klein boxers. Mark shoved them down in one go, let his dick slap his face, and —

‘Slurp it like a goddamn Popsicle.’

Fucking hell. Mark gave a few tentative kisses before swirling the head in great earnestness. His tongue worked in big circles until the top part was wet with saliva and pre-cum. Jaebeom did not realise his underside was that sensitive. Yet he nearly came on the spot when Mark licked it like a little boy relishing his strawberry ice lolly. Jaebeom wondered if Mark really acquired blowjob techniques by eating Popsicle, but his line of thought was rudely interrupted when the translator attacked his slit in rapid little strokes. Jaebeom threw his head back because, for fuck’s sake, blowjob had never felt so good. 

And it only got better. 

The translator held his length between dainty hands and wrapped his plump lips around him. He fondled his balls while bobbing his head at a fervent speed. Jaebeom gripped his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. It would be too much to pull Mark’s hair, wouldn't it? The double stimulation put the author’s self-restraint to the test. Mark met his eyes and hummed happily. The pure joy seemed so out of step with the dirty act he was doing. The concurrent display of innocence and decadence stirred up a firestorm in Jaebeom. A sadistic streak coursed through his veins like poison. He wanted to destroy that warm cavity. 

Unaware of the danger ahead, Mark continued to suck sincerely. He slid the erection through pursed lips, applying pressure over the shaft. In and out, in and out, in and out. The translator sank deeper and deeper until the tip hit the back of his throat. Desperate for the author’s approval, Mark tilted up to gauge his reaction. The movement made his throat spasm around the rock hard member. 

‘Fucking hell.’

Jaebeom thrust into Mark’s mouth at a punishing pace. Having recovered from the surprise, the older adjusted the angle to give him better access and keep his tongue rubbing the underside. Jaebeom held his head in place and slammed deep into his throat. He had never been that rough but it was damn gratifying to hear Mark whimper so pitifully. Not to mention seeing Mark teary and flustered all because of him. It was more than enough to make him come but Jaebeom would much rather reach the climax with Mark. 

Jaebeom pulled out and carried the older to the bedroom. Voice still coarse from abuse, Mark simply flashed him a dreamy smile. The author lay him on the bed before they started clawing at each other’s clothes.

‘I want you inside me now,’ Mark whined as Jaebeom took off his briefs, ‘but you’re too big for me.’  
Jaebeom gave him a wet kiss, ‘let’s stretch you nice and loose, yeah?’  
The older nodded cutely, ‘then you have to fuck me deep and hard.’  
‘Do you translate erotica for a living?’ the author smacked his butt and popped open the bottle of lube.  
‘No! I’ll have you know that I handle some serious literat –’

Mark gasped sharply when Jaebeom slid two fingers into his warmth. The younger realised he was indeed too large for that incredibly tight opening – so tight that he might mistake the older for a virgin. He pressed a string of soothing kisses on Mark’s inner thigh. He stretched him as patiently as he could. Soon, the muffled mewls turned into shameless moans.

‘Jae – Jaebeom – please I need you –’  
‘You ready for this?’ smirking, the author attacked his prostate once more.  
‘Oh my gosh,’ Mark cried incoherently, ‘please give it to Markeu –’  
‘Fucking hell.’

The writer hurriedly rolled the condom onto his erection. The couple gasped in pleasure when they were finally connected. Since Mark demanded rough treatment, Jaebeom did not give him much time to adjust. Each thrust was fast, hard and relentless. Determined to make the older come untouched, Jaebeom pinned his wrists above his head and confronted his prostate head on. Mark was so overwhelmed that he could not make any sound. His brows furrowed in painful pleasure. God, that erotic expression would be imprinted on Jaebeom’s mind. 

Since Mark was a few thrusts away from the climax, Jaebeom pounded into him as rapidly as he could. With a choked cry, the older went into spasm and ejaculated all over his abdomen. Shortly after, Jaebeom finally came calling Mark’s name.

Meow. Meow. Meow.

Mark buried his face in the fluffy pillow. He had not slept so soundly for a while, not with taking care of his sick child and staying up for Jinyoung’s book. He wanted to stay in bed since it felt nice and warm bundled up in duvet. But he should get up to prepare breakfast for Jisung. 

Meow.

Mark blinked in confusion — did he just hear a cat purr? Immediately he sat up straight and was hit by soreness in the lower body, especially his behind. His heartbeat picked up in no time as that once familiar feeling could only indicate one thing. They must have been rough last night, possibly going at it more than once. Purple patches scattered on his bare chest and pink ones on his inner thigh. His grip on the duvet tightened as he tried to curb the nauseous feeling. He should probably be grateful for his partner’s thoughtfulness, for no remnants of sticky substance remained on his groin. And if his hazy memories were reliable, the person next to him must be Jaebeom. 

Meow. Meow. Meow.

The author was still slumbering. His features looked youthful under gentle sunlight. Mark wanted to blame the younger for his mistake but it was simply impossible. Jaebeom had been really sweet and had taken good care of him. He was the kind of one-night stand partners everyone would ask for. No, Mark had only himself to blame. He betrayed Brian by sleeping with a stranger. He broke his vow and acted irresponsibly. 

He had been unfaithful.

The silver ring on his right hand sparkled tauntingly at his face, yet Mark found himself unable to look away. Because he knew he deserved it. He deserved to be mocked. He deserved to be reprimanded. He deserved to be tormented. 

Scorching tears burnt a trail down his cheeks. The translator bit his lip hard, willing himself not to cry. Tears were proofs of innocence. He would rather not victimise himself as if that could ever lessen his sin. His throat constricted as a warning for unstoppable sobbing. He covered his mouth with both of his hands, afraid that he might wake Jaebeom in the process. It was getting a little hard to breathe. With his eyes shut, he started counting to pull himself together.

‘Morning, Mark.’  
Gosh, Jaebeom was awake.  
‘Are you hungover? Should I grab you some meds? Aspirin? Ibuprofen?’  
Mark hated the way the younger caressed his hair. It made him want to cry harder.  
‘I promise I won’t laugh if your voice cracks. I’m accountable for that.’  
Mark shook his head vigorously.  
‘How about you go shower and I make breakfast? I think I’ve got eggs and –’

‘Stop it!’

The older snapped under the pressure of Jaebeom’s kindness. His chest was heaving. His brain was sizzling. His emotions were all over the place like his clothes. When he met the author’s shocked expression, guilt immediately flooded his system.

‘I – it’s just – gosh – I’m sorry, Jaebeom.’

The author inched towards him and dabbed away tears with his thumb. Although he flipped all of a sudden, Jaebeom still treated him so nicely. That look of concern did not sit well with Mark, who felt more remorseful for ruining Jaebeom’s morning.

‘No, I should be the one to apologise. I must’ve been too rough and I probably didn't prep you enough if you’re in this much pain. Aish, I shouldn’t have started the third round. Now what can I do to make you feel better? How about I draw you a bath? I can carry you –’

Mark wiped his tears hastily and reassured, ‘I’m fine, Jaebeom. It’s just – this is not your fault. You’ve been a great partner and you didn't do anything I didn't like. I’m just – I hope you had fun last night.’

The older tried not to wince when his feet hit the floor. There were three used condoms on top of their clothes. That was the biggest consolation he had this morning. At least they, no, Jaebeom did use protection so he would not get pregnant from his mistake. White stain posed a stark contrast to his black satin shirt. Together with all those hickeys in visible places, Mark would have to wear them as his scarlet letter. He fumbled with the buttons and pulled on his pants.

His rush was halted when the younger hugged him from behind. He could feel Jaebeom’s face on his nape. Mark tried not to overreact but the position was too intimate for his liking when Jaebeom was no more than an acquaintance. 

‘Please don't leave me,’ the author faltered, ‘what can I do to make you stay?’  
Mark was alarmed by his raw desperation, ‘Jaebeom, I don't think –’  
‘Am I a homewrecker?’  
‘Well, no –’  
‘Are you seeing anyone now?’  
‘No but –’

Jaebeom spun him around and forced a searing kiss on his lips. Devastation tasted sour, salty and bitter. The bruises on his rib cage started to hurt since Jaebeom pressed their bodies together. The author lived off his oxygen and made him feel suffocated.

‘Mark, please, I just need a chance.’

Jaebeom pressed their foreheads together when the older was panting in his arms. Mark never expected things to turn out like that. Even if this was all just an ephemeral passion, Jaebeom did crash and burn because of him. So the only reply he could give without hurting his conscience was –

‘Goodbye Jaebeom.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things escalated quickly… For someone as sensitive as Jaebeom, Mark's departure will leave him scarred permanently. What will happen when Mark severs their relationship even before the start? 
> 
> (Chapter title from GOT7's 'Crash and Burn')


	6. Tequila on the rocks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cantonese and Mandarin are used in this chapter. I use [(C) ... Eng Trans ...] and [(M) ... Eng Trans ...] to indicate them respectively.

Jisung woke up to a gloomy sky. He could hear Jackson-hyung snore next to him and the sun probably had not even waken up yet. But he really could not go back to sleep! The four-year-old sighed heavily and pouted at Mr Fox. He remembered Daddy telling him that adults sometimes found it hard to fall asleep. That happened when they caught a disease called insunmia. He knew Daddy had it.

‘Phew, I can’t believe I got insunmia,’ Jisung complained to Mr Fox.

He wondered how Daddy put up with insunmia. It was so boring having to stay in bed until the alarm went off. Worse still, his tummy was rumbling! As loud as a thunder! He took a discrete glance at Jackson-hyung. No response. Another rumble. Still no response.

‘Let’s make breakfast for everyone, Mr Fox!’ 

Jisung moved the duvet at the pace of a slouch. He then tiptoed out of the bed and darted into the kitchen. Since Daddy did not allow him to use the stove without adult supervision, he could not cook a huge huge huge Sunday brunch (and Sunday brunch only happened when Jackson-hyung ate with them! Daddy obviously had a bias. Phew…)

‘Well there are strawberries, bananas and blueberries in the fruit bowl,’ Jisung informed his furry companion, ‘we don’t have to cook them. And did you say to check the fridge? Yes,’ he opened the fridge, ‘milk and yogurt. Which one do you think, Mr Fox?’

After deliberation, Jisung decided on yogurt because Daddy preferred it. The last item he needed was cereal. Jackson-hyung usually put a box near the fruit bowl but it was nowhere to be seen! He surveyed the kitchen carefully to find a new box sitting on the overhead cupboard. Jisung tried to stand on his tiptoe, yet it’s far beyond his reach. Dragging a stool from the living room, he climbed on it and stood on top and —

Jackson shot up from the bed when a loud wail was heard outside. He checked the spot beside him only to find it empty. It was too late to rush to Jisung’s rescue. On the kitchen floor, the boy was crying in hysteria while cradling his forehead. 

‘屌, 仆街啦. [(C) Damn, this is fucked up.]’

Jisung smacked his head hard. The wound was quite big and bleeding. The Hongkonger pressed the wound with some clean kitchen paper which was soaked immediately. His heart pounded vigorously against his rib cage. It did not help that Jisung was bawling his eyes out.

‘It hurts so bad!’ Jisung cried, ‘Daddy. I want Daddy! Where’s Daddy?’  
‘Sungie, ssssh, I know it’s painful,’ Jackson wiped away tears gently with his spare hand, ‘trust hyung. It’s gonna get better, ok?’  
Jisung nodded meekly.  
‘Now, I need you to stop crying. Can you do that for me, baby?’

While the wailing turned into sobs and sniffles, the bleeding showed no sign of stopping even after ten minutes. Jackson decided to take his godson to the hospital. On the way, he called Mark multiple times but it went straight to the voice mail. His heart broke a little when the child crinkled his Ryan PJ pants with a tiny fist.

‘Hyung, w-will I see Daddy at the ho-hospital?’ Jisung asked amid hiccups.  
‘Of course,’ Jackson assured with a forced smile and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, ‘let me call him again.’  
‘Hi, this is Mark Tuan. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back later.’

Since it was Sunday, the A&E was more packed than usual. The waiting time for urgent cases like Jisung’s exceeded half an hour. The pair settled at the foyer to queue for medical treatment. Jackson left some texts and voice messages telling Mark where to find them. It seemed that the kid had run out of patience and kept fidgeting in the seat.

‘Jisung,’ Jackson patted his butt, ‘please sit properly.’

The child complied immediately and Jackson returned to his previous task of calling Mark. He ruffled his hair in frustration. It was unlike Mark to miss his calls for so many times. Yugyeom and Bambam said they had not seen him the entire morning either. He wished he had Jae’s or Sungjin’s contact. Did Mark make it home safely last night? They would have given him a ride right? He was tempted to call Mark again.

‘Hi, this is Mark Tuan. Please le—’  
He fired in rapid Cantonese, ‘屌, 你去撚左邊呀? [(C) dammit, where the fuck are you?*]’  
‘—ave a message and I’ll call you back later.’  
Aish, he forgot that Mark only spoke Mandarin, ‘段宜恩快打給我, please. [(M) Tuan Yien, please call asap.]’

‘Jisung,’ the Hongkoner rubbed his face in exhaustion, ‘please sit still and stop turning around.’  
The boy gave him a dejected look and replied, ‘but I want Daddy to see me when he comes in.’  
Jackson followed his line of sight. It dawned on him that Jisung was monitoring the entrance.  
‘I — I want Daddy, Jackson-hyung,’ his godson burst into tears.  
He wiped away the fat tears, ‘oh baby, I’m sure he’s on his way.’

‘Sungie!’

Mark finally appeared in his dishevelled glory. Despite Jackson’s short-sightedness, he could tell his best friend was still wearing clothes from yesterday and his cardigan was all buttoned up. The father rushed towards them with a limp. 

Jisung bounced out of Jackson’s arm, ‘Daddy! You came!’  
‘I’m sorry, baby,’ Mark hugged his son tightly but carefully, ‘Daddy is here now.’  
‘Daddy, I’m so scared. I f-fell off the stool and hit my h-head and it hurt so bad and I want y-you so bad.’  
‘Awww Sungie, I’m so sorry,’ Mark put Jisung on his lap, ‘you’re Daddy’s best boy. Waiting for doctors to treat you. So patient and brave.’

A nurse came with a clipboard, ‘Tuan Jisung, please go to Room A.’

The boy received a few stitches on his forehead and got admitted to the paediatric ward for observation. Jackson went to complete the admission procedure while Mark helped Jisung settle in the unfamiliar environment. It was already 2pm when the adults returned to Jackson’s place to clean up Jisung’s mess and cook lunch.

‘Do you want some mandu to go with ramyeon, Jacks?’

Mark lifted the lid of saucepan and put in two packets of cheese ramyeon. Jackson would have relished the domesticity if the older were not covered in hickeys given by some faceless stranger. They were all over his neck and collarbone and chest. There was a suspicious white stain on his blouse. And he still smelled like them. Sandalwood. Everything about Mark infuriated him.

‘你究竟去撚左邊度呀今朝? [(C) Where the fuck were you this morning?] I called you at least ten times and you never picked up! Jisung kept crying for Daddy but I didn’t even know where you were! 你知不知道他有多失望? [(M) Do you know how disappointed he was?] I was so damn worried about you. Thinking whether you got stabbed somewhere and were dying in pain. Or if you got run over by a goddamn car. 엿먹어 [Fuck you]. Turns out you’re just too busy fucking to even answer your goddamn phone! Can you be more irresponsible?’

Jackson’s chest heaved as though he went half way through a fencing match. His pent up emotions burst out in a chaotic mix of English, Korean, Cantonese and Mandarin. Mark was looking at him like a rabbit caught in the headlights. The Hongkonger ruffled his damp hair to distract himself from the hurt in those expressive eyes. Mark didn’t get to feel hurt. Not in front of Jackson, who had suffered from unrequited love for eight years.

‘I ask you to try letting go of Brian. I’m not telling you to throw yourself at some random man and fuck the first person that asks!’ Jackson gasped in sudden realisation, ‘tell me you didn’t do it with Jae please. You guys used to have some sort of LA bromance going on. 不是Sungjin吧? [(M) It couldn’t be Sungjin right?] Unless you fell for his billionaire charm last time?’

Mark responded with a disheartening silhouette and quiet sniffles. He dropped the handmade mandu into the boiling water. After minutes of excruciating silence, he poured everything into a bowl. An extra slice of cheese was added as a finishing touch. Jackson watched woodenly as the older placed food and a pair of chopsticks on the dining table. Mark said to him before leaving his apartment —

‘Perhaps I’m as unbecoming as you said.’

Jackson and Mark had stopped talking to each other for nineteen days. Despite the inevitable texts, Mark created a tormentingly polite distance between the lines. Such a style was what clients liked about the translator but Jackson would say it’s acrimonious. Their rare messages were either about work or Jisung. The boy was making a speedy recovery and brought him a giant Buzz Lightyear as a token of thanks. It was an important addition to his collection, though Jackson wished he had brought someone else. To take his mind off things, he decided to max out his gym membership. The frequency went from a weekly session with Jinyoung to almost daily with or without Jinyoung.

Jackson’s favourite activity was boxing lately. When he was hitting a punching bag, he got into a steady beat. Jab cross hook cross. Jab cross hook cross. Jab cross hook cross. The rhythm was somewhat therapeutic. And when he was sparring with Jinyoung, he could not afford to be distracted. He had to anticipate the next move and dodge and throw a powerful hook.

‘You look like you wanna bite my head off,’ Jinyoung pointed out as he regained foothold.

Jackson charged again with a jab, frustration simmering in his eyes. The author chuckled and dodged easily. The Hongkonger knew Jinyoung was trying to rile him up more than he already was. Usually, he did better than to walk right into the trap of that cunning man. But he was looking for an emotional outlet, not for a win. He just wanted to tire himself out so that he wouldn’t think of the recent fallout with Mark. 

‘Tsk, will you shut up?’ Jackson aimed a jab at his side.  
‘Oh, Jackson-ssi is cocky,’ the author teased, ‘loser is buying tonight, deal?’  
‘Deal.’

Unsurprisingly, Jinyoung won with his skills and collected mind. It was evident that Jackson needed to vent but this time, things were probably so bad that the Hongkonger lost the spirit to rant. They grabbed a quick bite before heading to their usual bar. Some booze might do him a favour.

‘Can I take your order?’ the bartender asked.  
‘A glass of house red please,’ Jinyoung replied. He was not here for wine anyway.  
‘I want a tequila,’ Jackson rubbed his face wearily, ‘on the rocks. Thanks bro.’

Jinyoung watched in intrigue as the Hongkonger swigged from the glass. As a writer, the Korean was unusually distant. Despite his melancholic style, he tended to base his stories on observations instead of personal experiences. Jackson made an interesting character. There were so many layers and twists to his personality. He was boisterous and funny. He was stern and focused. He was sentimental and heartbroken. 

It did not mean that Jinyoung did not care about Jackson. The author always served as a confidante and gave sound advice. They built their friendship that way. The Hongkonger shared with him his biggest secret while the Korean digested his excessive emotions. Jackson was asking for a refill when Jinyoung’s delayed order finally arrived.

‘Thanks Jackson,’ Jinyoung raised his glass, ‘I’m so broke because I kept paying for my stupid friend.’  
‘Who? JB?’ Jackson took a sip from his second drink.  
‘Yeah, he hit a writer’s block after being ditched by a one-night stand.’  
‘A one-night stand?’ the Hongkonger furrowed his brows, ‘love at first sight kinda stuff?’  
Jinyoung shrugged, ‘I suppose. He got it pretty hard.’  
‘The cons of being a romantic,’ Jackson took a big gulp of that amber liquid, ‘does he even know the other person’s name?’  
‘Yeah I think so,’ the author replied, ‘he had their number but they blocked him.’  
‘Damn, that sounds pretty sad.’

Jinyoung could hear the self-mockery in Jackson’s remark. He had never met someone as persistent as the man sitting next to him. Eight years and counting. He could not imagine how Jackson worked with him and looked after his son. And it was sweet how Jackson tried to keep that person anonymous. He already guessed who it was. Their relationship had been steady (or stagnant), so what brought about a sudden upheaval? Noticing that Jackson consumed two-third of his drink, Jinyoung decided to broach the topic.

‘Did you have a row with _him_?’

Jackson downed the remaining alcohol and ordered another drink. Jinyoung’s eyes followed the movement of the Hongkonger. Gripped the glass. Drew a line across the mist with a thumb. Took a gulp. Licked his lip. Put down the glass.

‘I’m not sure if I can call it a row. We haven’t talked to each other for nearly three weeks,’ Jackson swigged from the glass again, ‘basically, I told him to tryna move on from his late boyfriend. Later, he ran into his old friends and they invited him to dinner. The next day, my godson smacked his head in my kitchen. I kept calling him but he didn’t pick up. When he arrived, it was obvious that he had sex with someone. I was so damn jealous that I said what I never should have said! Call him an irresponsible father. Accuse him of sleeping with his boyfriend’s bros. And you know what, he didn’t even lash out at me. He cooked me a bowl of noodles before he left! But I can’t forget that hurtful expression on his face. And sometimes I dream of him having sex with other people. It’s driving me crazy!’

Jinyoung patted his back sympathetically, ‘Jackson, you have to confess before it’s too late. I mean, what can you do about it? Forbid him from meeting new people? Sabotage his dates? You know very well that you only have two options. Confess or move on. Since you can’t move on, then the best shot you have is to confess. How do you know it must fail? From what I gather, he’s not the type to look for passion and romance. Companionship is the key. I think Mark would prefer someone reliable and supportive.’

Jackson choked on tequila, ‘what did you just say?’  
‘I say Mark would prefer someone reliable and supportive,’ Jinyoung rolled his eyes.  
‘Wha — how — what are you talking about?’  
‘Geez, it’s not hard to put two and two together. You’re in love with Mark Tuan. My translator.’  
‘He’s not your translator,’ the project manager retorted.

Jinyoung laughed covering his mouth. His eye whiskers were fully displayed. It was so fun to tease Jackson and it felt better when the Hongkonger chuckled with him. The Korean could not understand how their friends missed the clues. Every time Jackson talked about Mark, or when someone mentioned Mark, a little spark illuminated his eyes. Besides, he knew Mark had a son (Sungie? He heard vaguely over the phone calls with Mark). All those bits and pieces were enough for Jinyoung to get the answer.

‘Your friends are either dumb or blind. It’s painfully obvious, your love for Mark,’ Jinyoung joked.  
‘I guess they just didn’t think towards this direction,’ Jackson took a gulp, ‘because the way I behave around Mark is always the same — before or after he entered a relationship.’  
The Korean gasped, ‘you don’t mean —’  
‘I’ve been in love with him since day one,’ Jackson smiled bitterly.  
‘Holy shit! You’re one of a kind, Wang Jackson.’  
The Hongkonger giggled, ‘din expect you to use swearwords. Gotcha there bro. Cheers!’

Jinyoung sipped from his glass while the Hongkonger finished another tequila. He knew he would be paying for everything _and_ taking care of Jackson’s drunk ass tonight. The fourth glass should do the job.

‘You know what, Jinyoung-ah, I think I just have to get used to the idea that Mark was having sex with other people again. I mean I used to hear him and Brian all the time. I even caught them in the middle of a heavy makeout! I’ll just get used to it again. But it gets so damn hard when it’s not Brian!’

Jackson poured half of the liquor down his throat, ‘I mean who wouldn’t love Brian? He’s kind. Smart. Funny. Considerate. Handsome. Goddamn built and probably really good in bed if Mark’s moan was anything to go by.’

‘I think you’re selling yourself short,’ Jinyoung replied as a matter of fact, ‘how do you know Mark doesn’t find you attractive? You just need to nudge him to that direction to start seeing you as a potential partner. It’s been four years. If he starts to move on, you should at least give the both of you a chance. See if your relationship can grow differently.’

Jackson slammed the glass on the table, ‘it’s been four years and he’s still wearing his promise ring! And now he sleeps with other people!’ The Hongkonger downed all the liquor, ‘why can’t he spare a glance at me? Why, Jinyoung? Why? 他怎麼就一眼都不看看我? 我一直都在, 但他從來沒有好好看過我! [(M) Why won’t he spare me a glance? I’m always there but he’s never looked at me properly.] 點解你唔可以愛我? 點解我要咁愛你呀段宜恩? [(C) Why can’t you love me? Why do I have to love you so much, Tuan Yien?]’

Jinyoung shook his head as Jackson slouched on the sticky bar counter, still babbling in multiple languages. After taking care of the check, the author began to contemplate how to deal with this drunk and heartbroken man. Since he did not know Jackson’s address, he could either take him home or take a good risk. He pulled out the contact page on his phone and called their mutual acquaintance. 

‘Jinyoung-ssi?’ Mark answered with a husky voice.  
The author grinned, ‘Mark-ssi, sorry to wake you up but Jackson is really drunk and I dunno where he lives.’  
‘Oh um where are you now?’ the translator was getting out of bed, ‘I’ll com —’  
‘It may be easier if I take him to you. Just give me your address.’  
‘You sure? He’s quite a handful.’  
‘Don’t worry.’  
‘Alright, I’ll text you my address. Thank you Jinyoung-ssi.’  
‘See you soon.’

It was a bit of a hassle to get Jackson into the cab. Luckily, he did not puke and just kept babbling about how much he loved Mark in numerous languages. The bar was not too far from Mark’s place. The translator was already waiting for them at the lobby.

‘Oh my gosh, you’re smashed,’ Mark received Jackson from Jinyoung, ‘how much did he drink?’  
The author replied honestly, ‘four tequila I think?’  
‘Tequila on the rocks!’ the Hongkonger cheered.  
‘Thank you so much, Jinyoung-ssi,’ Mark adjusted Jackson’s arm around his neck, ‘let me treat you lunch next time.’  
‘I’ll hold you to it.’ 

Mirth twinkled precariously in Jinyoung’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait! Things are really messy in my city. I hope everyone stays healthy.
> 
> Feel so bad for Jackson... That man is so adamant when it comes to Mark. Jinyoung is always the cunning one. Quietly plotting and orchestrating everything. But will Jinyoung's scheme succeed?
> 
> (Chapter title from Jackson Wang's 'On the Rocks')


	7. [Poll] Markson or not?

Hi Readers,

We have arrived at a crossroad for this story and I really need your opinion!

While I started this fic with the intention of a Markbeom endgame, I realise the story development leans more and more towards Markson. This feeling gets really strong especially after listening to Jackson’s I Love You 3000 (Chinese version). It makes me want to write a happy ending for Jackson, who has loved Mark unconditionally in this story.

I understand that some of you come for Markbeom and may not be on board with a Markson endgame. So I’m thinking if I should:  
(a) Delete this story and upload a separate Markson fic; or  
(b) Keep writing this story in Markson direction.

What do you think? Please let me know how you feel about this.

Thank you,  
xavierching


	8. I love you 3000

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [(C) ...] = Cantonese  
[(M) ...] = Mandarin  
[(SH) ...] = Shanghainese (I don't speak it so I search online and improvise a bit with my Chinese knowledge :p)

‘Jinyoung-ah, 吾老歡喜段宜恩. 老歡喜. [(SH) I love Tuan Yien very much. Very much.]’

Jackson kept mumbling as Mark tried to drag him towards the lift. The intoxicated man was like a sack of uncoordinated limbs. Heavy and hard to manoeuvre. It was not the first time for Mark to take care of a drunk Jackson. Back in university, the Hongkonger had been a party animal who got smashed on a weekly basis. Mark could remember 吾老歡喜段宜恩 — the Shanghainese phrase Jackson always chanted in his unconscious state.

The last time Mark saw Jackson get shit-faced was probably a few weeks after finding out about his pregnancy. That time, Jackson kept talking to him in Shanghainese and the only thing Mark could catch was that usual mantra. He had wrapped Jackson’s arm around his neck and brought the younger home. A little accident happened, causing the pregnant man to fall. While Mark had put Jackson to bed eventually, the Hongkonger freaked out the next morning as he found the expectant father asleep next to him with bloodstain on the bed sheet. To show his remorse, Jackson swore off binge drinking. This was why the American was upset about his drunken state, but trust Jackson to make him smile.

‘You don’t know how much I miss him, Jin.’

The past nineteen days had been torturous for Mark too. He came to realise how much Jackson’s presence was ingrained to his and Jisung’s life. His son demanded to play fencing with his godfather. Had to enlist Youngjae’s assistance in face of a big (‘it’s just a baby, Mark-hyung.’) spider. Well, Jackson would have freaked out but tried to kill it anyway. And Mark found it hard to focus without his hyena laughter and cheerful voice. The situation was just like missing the daily dose of caffein. To put it dramatically, Jackson was like his oxygen — a necessity he had been living off unawarely. 

Nonetheless, the extended time-out had been necessary and surprisingly fruitful. The younger had totally overstepped the boundary with the accusation that he had slept with Jae or Sungjin. It was essential to stress the importance of mutual respect. While Mark felt wronged and hurt by Jackson’s spiteful words, he was forced to face up to his current dilemma: did pursuing a new relationship, or simply having one-night stands, make him an irresponsible father? Since his self-reflection was going in circles, he finally decided to read books and find online videos for reference. He found refuge and resonance from the experiences of other single parents. And they opened his eyes. 

For the first time in four years, Mark felt a bit hopeful and excited about his future.

The five-minute walk between home and the lift lobby was unfortunately extended to fifteen minutes. All because Jackson refused to cooperate and kept wobbling to the opposite direction. The idiot almost played a glissando on the lift button panel. Luckily, Mark had quick reflex to stop him, thanks to training from Jisung. The American had never felt more relived to see the door to his house. Couple more steps and he could go to sleep.

‘Gaga, hang in there.’

As Mark fumbled with the key, Jackson slipped out of his hold and pulled him into a backhug. The Hongkonger traced the ridges of his neck with the tip of his nose, sending tingles down his spine. Now that the younger was inhaling deeply against his nape, Mark was completely immobilised. Like a cat going limp when it was grabbed by its scruff. Jackson went way beyond the parameter of their usual skinship. Their bodies were pressed so tightly together that his face turned pink from Jackson’s body heat and he could almost feel the contour of Jackson’s muscular torso. The scent of musky cologne entwining with tequila must have made him tipsy.

‘You’re driving me crazy,’ Jackson said with a raspy voice, ‘tell me you miss me too.’  
‘I miss you,’ Mark faltered. He always surrendered when the younger spoke English.  
‘How much?’  
‘Very much.’  
‘That’s good to hear.’

Jackson pressed a kiss on his nape as if to get his message across. His lips lingered for a second too long. Dumbfounded, Mark dropped the key and a clank echoed in the deserted hallway. He swallowed drily to calm his racing heart. Jackson was not thinking straight at all. There was no need to overreact given Jackson’s love for skinship. Now unlock the goddamn door and get the job done.

‘Let’s get you to bed, Gaga.’

Mark held Jackson’s hand and led his best friend to the bedroom until the younger withdrew his hand abruptly. He could not decipher the look of disbelief, distaste and despair on Jackson’s face. He licked his lip anxiously as the highly-charged ambience thickened.

Jackson shook his head and said, ‘I can’t sleep where you did it with him.’  
‘What are you talking about?’ Mark blinked.  
‘I’m talking about your one-night stand! Did you bring him home that night and have sex with him on your bed?’

Offended by Jackson’s interrogative tone, he snapped, ‘so what? I’m an adult. I have _every_ right to have one-night stands. I can bring home whoever I like and shag them wherever I want. Do you have a problem, Wang Jiaer?’

‘Yes, I have a problem and that fucking problem is you!’

Mark let out a gasp of astonishment as Jackson backed him against the bedroom door, effectively trapping him between his arms. The world seemed to have ground to a halt. Their gaze interlocked. The sole reflection in Jackson’s soulful eyes was him. 

The older belatedly realised that the Hongkonger had matured throughout the years. The mischievous glint in his big eyes was replaced by a mellow glow. Faint wrinkles decorated the under-eye area. Gone were the squishy cheeks he loved to pinch. His features turned chiseled, fully illustrating his transformation from a boisterous boy into a mature man.

‘You took my heart away when you fucking smiled at me on the orientation day. Everything about you drives me crazy — your smile, your voice, your accent, your personality. Everything. I couldn’t stop myself from falling in love with you but I couldn’t stop you from falling for Brian either. Do you know how that feels? To love without a hope?’

Jackson’s eyes were brimming with tears. His lips curled downward like a crying Squirtle, ‘I told myself that I’d be okay as long as you’re happy. I told myself that being your best friend should suffice. I told myself that time would heal everything. But no, whoever I dated, whatever I did, wherever I went, I couldn’t get you out of my head.

‘Over the past eight years, I’ve done everything in my power to secure your happiness. After Brian passed away, I tried to be your emotional pillar and keep you away from depression. When the Kangs barred you from the funeral, I went over to beg them and got beaten up by the guards. When you gave birth to Jisung, I swore I would love him as my own. 

‘I know that love cannot be reasoned but I wanna give you a reason to love me.’

Mark was unaware that he was cradling Jackson’s face until a larger hand enveloped his. Tears streamed down and soaked their hands. The younger leaned into his touch as if relishing in the form of intimacy he always dreamt of. A faint smile spread on his face. It was heartwrenching to see a proud man humbled by love. The Jackson Wang he knew was not like this. But, really, did he know Jackson Wang at all?

The Hongkonger said with his slightly accented English, ‘please kiss me.’

Lured by that hypnotic voice, Mark leaned in tentatively and pressed a sweet kiss on the younger man’s lips. His brain went haywire. His face was burning. His heart was fluttering. Before he could pull away, however, Jackson caught him by his nape to deepen the kiss which translated longing, sincerity and reverence. Contrary to the younger’s fiery personality, the kiss was exceptionally tender. The kind of tenderness that Jackson reserved for Mark. 

The Hongkonger wrapped his arms around his waist, bringing them even closer. His entire body was coddled by Jackson’s body warmth. Fireworks ignited before his eyes. Nothing pompous or explosive, but steady, gentle sparks of gold against a beautiful velvet sky. Soft moonbeam shone upon them. It was a picture of simple joy and content. 

‘Daddy?’

Jisung was rubbing his eyes groggily, trying to make sense of the presence of an unexpected visitor. Mark immediately pushed Jackson away. He tucked his fringe back to the rightful position and smoothed the nonexistent crease on his pyjama top. 

The child cocked his head in confusion, ‘what are you doing with Jackson-hyung?’  
‘Erm,’ the father blinked rapidly, ‘he hit his head so Daddy just kissed it better.’  
‘唔痛唔痛, [(C) Pain, go away,]’ Jisung hugged his godfather’s leg, ‘do you need Sungie to kiss it better?’  
‘Oh, um, yeah I suppose,’ Jackson crouched to receive the kiss.

‘Daddy,’ the kid furrowed his brows, ‘I can’t find Mr Fox.’  
‘I’m sure he’s sleeping somewhere on your bed.’  
‘No, I looked everywhere. He must’ve disappeared.’  
‘Let’s find him then.’

Jisung scurried back to his room, leaving the adults in an awkward silence. Mark refused to look up despite Jackson’s stare. The father chewed his lips nervously and passed the younger a set of pyjamas he had prepared earlier. Jackson held his hand and pressed a chaste kiss on the back, causing Mark to flee to Jisung’s room.

‘Did you hurt your hand, Daddy?’ his son asked with concern.  
‘No,’ Mark checked the bunch of stuffed toys at the end of the bed, ‘why?’  
‘Because Jackson-hyung kissed the back of your hand like this,’ Jisung reenacted the action precisely.  
The father nearly fainted from mortification, ‘he thought I hurt myself so — oh look, Mr Fox is over there!’  
‘Yeah!’ Jisung gave Mr Fox a smooch and hugged him tightly, ‘goodnight Daddy.’  
The father tucked him in and pecked on his forehead, ‘g’night baby.’

Mark dragged his feet back to his own room. Jackson Wang Jiaer, his best friend, the man who was showering in his bathroom, just kissed him! What the heck! Was his life a goddamn sit-com? He wanted to scream and perhaps throw his laptop to the ground. No, he should sleep now. When he woke up tomorrow, he would find it all a goddamn dream. He plopped onto the bed. Turned off the table lamp. Pulled the duvet over his head. 

Note his motto: sleep was the solution to everything.

Jackson woke up to sunshine peering through the blinds. His head miraculously did not hurt, thanks to the pitch of organic green tea Mark left on the coffee table. He tried to keep his movement small as the older was still asleep on his bicep. Mark’s face looked serene under a hue of golden sunlight. Long eyelashes. Defined cheekbones. Plump lips. Soft and very kissable.

Memories of last night emerged before his eyes. Every touch, every tingle, every flutter — he remembered them all. Rather than dismiss, deny or get mad at his confession, Mark seemed to take his drunk confession seriously and went as far as initiating a kiss. A tiny bud of hope burst in Jackson’s heart. He cautiously extracted his limbs from Mark’s hold and left the room on tiptoe. It was half past nine. Jinyoung was probably still sleeping but the Hongkonger could not care less in face of a life-and-death situation. When you must play your cards right, count on your sneaky friend. 

‘Good morning, Jackson-ssi,’ Jinyoung greeted with a threatening politeness, ‘how may I help you?’  
‘I confessed to Mark last night! We kissed!’ the Hongkonger exclaimed, ‘and —’  
‘Lovely, if you would excuse me —’  
‘I need your advice, please,’ Jackson pleaded with his aegyo voice, ‘I don’t know anyone wiser than you, author-nim.’  
Jinyoung chuckled heartily, ‘flattery doesn’t get you anywhere. What’s in it for me?’  
‘You sneaky —’ the Hongkonger forgot his feel-good tactic.  
‘I thought you don’t know anyone wiser than me.’  
‘Pretty please, Jinyoungie,’ Jackson returned to his high-pitched voice, ‘aren’t we Wang Gae Park Gae?’  
‘You help me edit my latest manuscript. I give you some pointers.’  
‘Sneaky, you’re so sneaky,’ the translator sighed dramatically, ‘deal.’

Slipping into a serious mode, Jackson gave Jinyoung a concise recap of the night. The author listened attentively and asked question where necessary. It was easy to establish that even though Mark had never seen Jackson as a potential love interest, the American did not reject the idea of it. The prospect looked rosy. 

‘Let’s discuss your case using the triangular theory of love,’ Jinyoung analysed, ‘a healthy relationship is constituted by three elements: passion, intimacy and commitment. Given your eight-year friendship, you guys are close. You’ve supported each other through thick and thin. So I don’t see a problem with intimacy and commitment at the moment.

‘Now, the part you have to work on is passion which means romantic feelings and physical attraction. From what happened last night, you seem to possess the sort of charm which works extremely well on Mark. He melts into a puddle of goo when you pour your heart into words and actions. Flirt with him openly. Take him on dates. Pepper him with hugs and kisses. And you’ll get a boyfriend in no time.’

‘Wow, you’re a relationship genius, Jinyoungie,’ Jackson exclaimed, ‘I wish we met earlier.’  
‘I’ll take that as an insult,’ the single writer deadpanned.  
‘What do you think of a picnic date? The weather is great today.’  
‘Oh, you’re a relationship genius too, Jackson-ssi.’  
‘Alright, I’d better get ready.’  
‘I’ll pass you my manuscript tomorrow.’  
‘I’ll shred them all.’  
‘Ne, Wang Gae hwaiting!’  
‘Thanks, Jin.’

Jackson was thrilled to put his date idea into action. A picnic was perfect for a young couple with a kid. He could take some time to bond with Mark while Jisung got to enjoy a day out. At sunset, they might take a stroll under autumn foliage. How romantic!

‘Jackson-hyung 早晨! [(C) good morning!]’ Jisung greeted energetically, ‘are you spending the day with us?’  
Jackson ruffled his hair, ‘morning Jisungie. Do you want to spend the day with me?’  
‘Yes! I miss you very very very much!’  
‘Well, the weather is great today. So what do you say about a picnic?’  
‘Yay!’  
‘Ssssh, Jackson-hyung wants to give your Daddy a surprise. Are you in?’  
The four-year-old nodded fervently.  
‘Reconvene in the kitchen after brushing your teeth, little soldier.’  
Jisung mocked salute.

After setting the menu, the pair started making mini-sandwiches. While Jackson stacked cheese, ham and tomato slides on the bread, Jisung picked out cute animal moulds and helped press out the shapes. They also made a big bowl of caesar salad. Since autumn breeze could be quite cool, Jackson decided to bring some hot chocolate in an insulated flask. 

‘So we’ve got the mains. Snacks. Drinks. Picnic blanket. Cutlery. Games,’ Jackson muttered.  
‘Hyung, you forgot haribo,’ Jisung rolled his eyes dramatically and put a huge pack inside.  
‘叻仔, [(C) Smart boy,]’ the Hongkonger ruffled his hair, ‘go wake Daddy.’

Jisung sprinted to the room and jumped onto Mark. The American blinked obliviously, trying to get his brain functioning. That little nose scrunch was so adorable that Jackson could not help pinching him. Mark squealed at the sight of him. A hue of pink dusted his cheeks. Jisung exchanged a sly glance with Jackson before flashing Mark a saccharine smile.

‘Daddy, the weather is so so so nice today. Would you go on a picnic date with us?’  
‘Yes, baby,’ Mark glimpsed at Jackson before kissing his child, ‘I’d go anywhere with you.’  
‘Yeah!’ the Hongkonger high-fived Jisung. 

Hangang Park was filled with visitors on Saturday afternoon. Jisung bounced across the lawn, holding hands with Mark and Jackson on each side. He picked a spot under a big tree. They spread the blanket. Set things up. Got the food ready. Since all of them skipped breakfast, they attacked the animal-shaped sandwiches fervently. The child tried to shove a bunny and a puppy into his mouth. Mark and Jackson ended up joining the challenge and the father emerged as the winner with two turtles, two kittens and a whale. 

‘Jackson-hyung, let’s spar,’ Jisung proposed, ‘we got the swords.’  
‘Sure, Mark will be our referee,’ the Hongkonger grinned.  
The American grimaced, ‘okay, I think I still remember the fancy French words you taught me in sophomore year.’

Jisung really enjoyed fencing after watching Jackson’s old competition videos. To mimic a real sabre, he had a toy sword ‘customised’ by his godfather who used some cardboard to DIY the handle part. The boy cherished his equipment so much that he never lent it to anyone. He was familiar with the etiquette and the rules of the sport. Mark wondered if he should bring his son to a proper trial lesson.

After the young player bowed to his godfather, Mark announced, ‘en garde!’  
The players adopted the fencing stance.  
‘Prêts?’  
The four-year-old nodded with determination.  
‘Allez!’

Mark was fascinated by Jackson Wang the fencer. His agility remained at a nearly professional level. He dodged Jisung’s lunge with effortless grace. His eyes sparked with intrigue, vigilance and single-mindedness. When Jisung poked his abdomen with the tip of the sword, the former university rep groaned dramatically and elicited a burst of laughter from the boy. The players sparred for almost an hour before taking a break. The father used a Ryan towel to wipe Jisung’s sweats and passed him a water bottle before turning to Jackson with a tissue. He dabbed the younger man’s forehead gently, careful not to miss any spot. 

‘Thank you Yien,’ the Hongkonger stole a kiss on his cheek.

Mark was left all flustered but the culprit already fled the crime scene. Jisung, who seemed to have boundless energy, asked his godfather to play frisbee with him. Worried about Jackson’s body condition (‘God knows how early he rose this morning. How come he doesn’t seem affected by hangover?’), Mark swopped with the Hongkonger after a few rounds. The four-year-old had fun running across the lawn. When Mark tossed the disc too far, Jisung bumped into Hyunjin and Yeji. It turned out the Hwangs were sitting next to the pet area because of their dog Kkami. Chansung offered to watch Jisung for a while as the children hung out with the puppy.

Mark and Jackson laid side by side on the picnic blanket, basking in the lukewarm sunlight. The older closed his eyes and let the sound of birds chirping wash over him. A content smile adorned his face. This was everything Jackson worked hard for. He would not trade the world for such a beautiful sight.

‘Tuan Yien.’  
‘Hm?’  
‘What do you think we’ll be like ten years from now?’

The American pondered for a moment, ‘I’ll be 37 and you’ll be 36. I hope I am working under you as a full-time translator. And you will get promoted as the head of our section. I will do aegyo to make you assign me the source texts I like,’ he giggles, ‘Jisung will be as tall as you at the age of 14. I hope he will enter a good school. Do things he’s passionate about. You’ll come over for dinner and give him pointers on how to snatch the hearts of boys and girls.’

‘What happened to getting married at the age of 35?’ the Hongkonger propped himself up by the elbow. His intense gaze reminded Mark of last night, ‘ten years later, I hope we’re happily married. After a long day of work, we’ll cook together and wait for our children to return home from extra-curricular activities. Over dinner, Jisung, our eldest, will tell us about the silly pranks he pulled on his classmates. Our maknae, Jisoo, will expose his/her brother’s new crush on some cutie at school. How does that sound, Yien?’

Jackson enveloped his left hand with his warmer one, thumb brushing his ring finger. Rapid heartbeat was thrumming on Mark’s fingertip and the tip of his ears were burning. His best friend was not merely flirting with him but, gosh, he was saying to marry him and have kids! Everything sounded like lines from a Hollywood movie and yet he could feel the weight of Jackson’s words.

The older sat up straight and faltered, ‘this is not something to joke about, Jackson.’  
‘I mean each and every word I say,’ the younger asserted in Mark’s mother tongue, his eyes unwavering.  
‘I dunno how to make of this,’ Mark tried to voice his chaotic thoughts, ’it’s — I don’t — I’ve never seen you in this light. I don’t want to put our friendship at stake and I just — you’re too important for me to lose you.’

Jackson beamed and caressed his face, ‘glad to hear I’m significant to you. It’s totally understandable that you feel overwhelmed and shocked and confused. I mean I’ve been your best friend for eight years and not once did I hint at my feelings for you. In hindsight, perhaps things would be different if I confessed earlier. But I believe that all the obstacles we’ve overcome together strengthen our bond. I know you have a lot of things to consider: unresolved feelings, your insecurities, your aspirations and most importantly Jisung. 

‘I hope the past few years prove to you that I’m capable of making you happy. That I have the potential to perform all the roles you need me be — a friend, a confidante, a boyfriend, a father figure, a husband, a lifelong companion. It’s too early for us to talk about commitment, of course. But I want to assure you that I understand your needs and I am always ready to fulfil them regardless of the stages of life we’re at. I hope, after contemplation, that you will take a chance on me.'

‘Gaga…’

The intimate nickname came out as an incredulous gasp as Jackson’s second confession hit differently. The Hongkonger had obviously thought this through, probably honing the words over the years. He could feel the enormity of Jackson’s feelings. How they managed to survive despite his solid relationship with Brian was beyond him. Even more so was how Jackson managed to hide them from him. It hurt to learn that the younger kept loving him regardless of circumstances. What did he do to receive such kind of affection?

It dawned on him what the Shanghainese mantra could possibly mean, ‘do you know that you always say 吾老歡喜段宜恩 when you’re drunk? From university to last night. Now I understand. Now I finally understand what it means. It means “I love Tuan Yien”, isn’t it?’

‘No, it means “I love Tuan Yien very much”.’

Taken aback by the revelation, Jackson took a moment to collect himself. Never would he think that the words which were meant to be said had in fact been said all those years ago. This was what people called 緣分 [(M) yuanfen, akin to fate]. If timing had not been right back then, perhaps the right time finally came. 

‘段宜恩, 我愛你. 第一次見面, 我就愛上了你. 不管怎樣, 我都會等你的答覆. [(M) Tuan Yien, I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you the first time we met. No matter what, I will wait for your answer.]’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me over two months (sorry…) to work out how it takes Jackson eight years to confess. I decided that this fic should go in Markson direction after listening to 愛 (I love you 3000 Chinese version). The lyrics are really sweet but the melody also stirs a sense of melancholy. It sounds like unrequited love finally reciprocated. I think the song goes well with this chapter. 
> 
> How will Mark response? Perhaps someone can enlighten him ;)
> 
> PS: Support GOT7’s latest title 'Not by the moon'!
> 
> (Chapter title from Jackson Wang's '愛 (I love you 3000 Chinese version)')


	9. I remembered for a time

Jaebeom had descended into darkness after his muse, Mark, abandoned him. The curtains were drawn tightly together. The heaters were turned off. The place reeked of sex, sweat and a mix of spirits, or to put it simply, pure decadence. The last time he resembled a proper human being was getting wasted with Jinyoung in their usual pub but he could not remember how he returned home or how long it had been since then. His phone buzzed, predictably another call from Jitae-hyung, his literary agent, who was expecting him to decide on a translator for his award-winning work. Or it could be Boyoung-noona, the editor, since the first part of his new fiction was overdue. He could not bring himself to do anything. In fact, he would not even leave his bed if his three cats could fend for themselves.

Odd was glaring at him with its heterochromia iridis on top of the cat tower while Koonta was attacking the scratch post in an angry outburst. Nora, ever the dignified one, walked all over him like a doormat he was. Jaebeom forced himself to get up and feed them. The felines trailed after him in case the last ounce of sanity evaporated from their master. Cat food hit the metal bowls in clear clanks. The sound was peculiarly therapeutic as it reminded the author that he actually had the capability of acting normal if he chose to.

Jaebeom could not make sense of his fixation on Mark. He had met people more attractive and more intelligent than Mark. Yet, only this Mark, whose surname he did not even know, fucked him up so badly. Got him addicted on the first taste. Like nicotine. The creative burst he experienced that night, if he put it lightly, was wondrous. He had never been able to think so much, write so much and feel so much in his entire life.

It was a point of no return, he’d like to believe.

Despite his unmoving gaze on his pets, Jaebeom’s mind already spiralled into the quicksand of reminiscence. The tantalising smile when Mark blew him. The choked cry of his name when Mark reached the climax. The watery eyes when Mark got oversensitive. Snippets of their short encounter kept replaying in his head, pulling him deeper and deeper down the bottomless pitch of crazed obsession. He tried to channel the libido into poems, which was his usual way of handling overflowing emotions. He picked up a random pen and scribbled furiously on the nearest piece of paper. If he was lenient to himself, he would call the string of words a stream of consciousness. In all honesty, however, they were merely word vomit — excessive, rotten and worthless.

_Jaebeom stole a peck on Mark’s lips before tossing the used condom onto the floor. The older flashed him a dreamy smile in the post-coital glow. With their fingers intertwined, the pair enjoyed a moment of comfortable silence in the backhug position. The moon hung low on the windowpane, casting a soft glow on the ethereal being before him._

_He took a moment to map the contour of Mark’s shoulder. A delicate curve was formed between the neck and the shoulder. Under the thin layer of muscles was a well-defined bone structure, with a slight protrusion near the arm. The shoulder blades ornamented the back like a pair of wings. His fingertips glided fluidly on the smooth skin, making the translator shudder._

_Jaebeom whispered at his ear, ‘you don’t like it or you like it too much?’  
‘Don’t start a book you can’t finish,’ Mark drawled, ‘author-nim.’  
‘How do you know I can’t?’_

_Mark’s lithe body was coated by a sheen of sweat but it did not deter the writer at all. He leaned in and licked a big fat stripe on his shoulder. Slowly and sensuously as if he was french kissing. The older tried to stop himself from squirming but his uneven breath betrayed him._

_‘Just admit that you like me fondling your shoulders, my muse,’ he nibbled on the meat of the right one, ‘your shoulders are beautiful. I want to etch the shape of them on my mind. Then I can jerk myself off to this erotic image of you writhing as I play with them.’_

Jaebeom was getting hard from the recollection. Making himself comfortable on the couch, he let his member out from the loose pyjama pants. It was too much work to retrieve lube from the bedroom so he simply spit on his palm and started stroking his length. He missed the feeling of Mark’s hands. They were softer but there were a few rough patches on the palm. Probably from holding a pen all day long to scribble next to a Korean book. He had those too. Maybe he could try and pretend it was Mark touching him.

_Mark turned around to reach for Jaebeom’s cock, which was a little sticky because of the mix of residual lube and half-dried cum. A neat freak like him would dislike the sensation in normal circumstances, but with his muse, it felt dirty in a good way. Like a guilty pleasure. The older dragged his thumb from his perineum along the underside to the slit of his member before wrapping his fist around it. He alternated between languid caresses and quick strokes, rough patches brushing against the side occasionally to bring extra stimulation._

_Frustrated by the inconsistency of those hands, Jaebeom sucked on a tender hickey he left on the crook of Mark’s neck until the translator yelped. No pattern could be identified from his rapid manoeuvres. He kissed. He licked. He bit. Like a feral beast possessed by its natural instinct. He was totally lost in the presence of the older, writing on his body however he pleased._

_‘I think you need a little reminder,’ Mark nipped his lip between kisses, ‘that a translator can call the shots too.’  
‘And I think you may have to convince me,’ Jaebeom replied cheekily.  
The American warned in English, ‘remember: my work, my rules.’_

_Mark used his index finger to rub the head furiously until the ashes in the pit of his stomach combusted and blue flames emerged in a matter of millisecond. He was close to coming but of course, Mark decided to punish him. He gripped the base of his dick with one hand but continued to fondle his balls with another._

Jaebeom was too preoccupied with his dirty business to notice the loud meows for a refill. His erection was painfully hard from the way he rubbed himself raw. But that was not the only place hurting.

_‘Will you be good for me now, author-nim?’  
‘Yes, I’ll be good for you,’ Jaebeom panted, ‘only you.’  
The translator kissed the tip of his penis, ‘enjoy the ride.’_

_The writer put on a rubber haphazardly before helping Mark onto his member. He was surprised to see that the American was equally hard since he barely did anything to pleasure him. Apparently, the best way to turn somebody on was to appeal to their kinks and fetishes._

_‘Shit, Jaebeom,’ Mark whimpered as he bottomed out, ‘you fill me up so well.’  
‘Fucking hell, do it slowly, my muse. I want to make you come first.’  
‘No, you will come as I ask.’_

_It was a phenomenal sight, really, to see the older bouncing on his cock without inhibitions. When Mark located the prostate, he rode so hard that he was nearly slamming down the shaft. His hand was guided to squeeze that little ass and Mark let out the most infuriating moan. That alone was enough to finish him off._

_‘Come for me, Jaebeom.’_

The author spurted all over his hand with a choked cry. His chest was heaving but the ability to breathe did not make him feel alive. Staring at a random spot on the ceiling, he remembered how Mark said goodbye to him in person. He remembered how Mark apologised to him over the phone. He remembered how Mark blocked his number on texts.

A pang of heartache attacked him. It was pathetic how Mark’s rejection left an ever growing void inside him without making Jaebeom want him any less. He called for him in a whisper, hoping against hope that his call would be answered.

‘My muse.’

The bus moved steadily across the busy streets of Seoul. City lights were flickering in the downpour. Jinyoung’s eyes were staring outside the window but his mind drifted to Jaebeom. After their last meetup, the older rarely replied to his texts or answered his calls. So when Jitae-hyung asked him pass Jaebeom a pile of translation samples, he immediately agreed.

He stopped by a family restaurant to buy takeaway. It took longer than usual but Jackson bombarded him with messages, photos and videos about the picnic yesterday. The foreign pair made a nice family with Jisung (now he knew the name of that cute little boy). He felt happy that the Hongkonger was finally heading somewhere with Mark. Oh, Jaebeom’s crush was also called Mark if he remembered correctly. Did that name give people some sort of inexplicable charm?

Rain stopped on his way to Jaebeom’s place. He jabbed at the doorbell impatiently because he preferred not to eat soggy noodles. After a full minute of meows from the cats, he finally heard their owner’s approaching footfalls. Jinyoung was taken aback by Jaebeom’s dishevelled appearance — bleary eyes, stubbles and dirty pyjamas. Out of spite, he slammed the door and turned on all the lights. His face scrunched in distaste since the odour of sex and liquor flooded his nostrils. There was a landfill in the living room which consisted of used tissue, crumpled paper, stained plastic utensils, empty takeaway containers and instant noodle cups.

Jaebeom covered his mortification with a lame cough, ‘sorry about the mess. I didn’t know —’  
‘Take a long shower, hyung,’ he interrupted sharply, ‘we can talk when you look presentable.’  
The older hummed noncommittally but complied under his critical gaze.

Jinyoung started the cleaning routine from the bedroom. It seemed that the author had been nesting on the bed with all the blankets, pillows and clothes. He wrapped everything up using the bed sheet and shoved the bundle into the hamper. The next spot, kitchen, was relatively clean because Jaebeom did not bother to cook. There were only a few unwashed bowls in the basin. Afterwards, he opened all the windows to air the living area. Rubbish was swept into a large bin bag and stains on the coffee table were scrubbed clean. What remained was a sheet of paper on the couch.

_Even now I remember it  
I want to forget but  
It becomes so vivid _

_Our fingertips caressing each other  
The turning crimson two of us  
Your wet lips and  
Our naked hearts_

_The times when it gets intense  
All the memories engraved in us  
This feeling is stirring up  
To the point it’s suffocating_

_No, I know it very well  
But I’ll still do it over again  
I’m being locked inside of you  
No, even now_

_I remembered for a time  
I think of your body then  
The warmth we exchanged with each other too  
And even that breath which invokes my soul_

_The pounding of your heart echoes unceasingly  
Your sighs still tickle around my ears  
The desire that I still can feel even now  
I recall everything about you_

‘Did Jitae-hyung send you? Or Boyoung-noona?’ Jaebeom emerged from the bathroom, snapping Jinyoung out of his trance. The older resembled an overgrown Dutch sheepdog, he thought. Both of them needed a trim to open their eyes.

Jinyoung put the poem away nonchalantly, ‘Jitae-hyung asked me to pass you some translation samples.’  
‘This is the third batch already,’ the older sighed while drying his hair, ‘I think I’ll never find the right person for the job.’  
‘I told you before that a translation is a refraction of the original. You can’t expect a duplicate.’  
‘And I only insist that my translator must not only understand my work, but also empathise with it.’

Jinyoung let out a tired sigh. His friend was infuriating that way, being too romantic to accept the reality. He was finding a translator, not a soul mate for god’s sake. He reached for the manila envelope and emptied the content onto the table. As expected, none of the submissions were from the company’s list of translators. He flipped through them offhandedly until a familiar name came up.

‘You must see this one, hyung,’ he pushed the sample to Jaebeom, ‘Tuan Yien, the translator for _My Youth_. He’s brilliant. You’ll be amazed by his ability to — what’s your word — empathise.’  
‘Tuan Yien? Sounds like a Chinese name. Is English his native language?’  
‘Yes, English and Chinese, to be precise. Saves you the effort to find a Chinese translator.’  
‘Well, I don’t read Chinese so I can’t tell.’  
‘But Boyoung-noona does and she approves of his delivery in Korean, English and Chinese.’  
‘Woah, that speaks volumes. I’ll make sure to read it later.’

Jaebeom made a beeline to the takeaway food and Jinyoung just let him be. It was better to address the elephant in the room with a full stomach, rather than deal with an emotional wreck that was starving for both love and food. 

Jaebeom inhaled everything in record speed to get rid of him. But before the older could make up an excuse, he opened a bottle of red wine and demanded that his hyung drink with him. He occupied the armchair while Jaebeom took the couch. The pair swirled their glasses intently as if the ruby liquid was the best read in the world.

‘Recently, I’ve been reading an English classic called _Lolita_,’ he said, ‘it’s about a man being obsessed with a young girl. Many people mistake it for a mere erotica but I think Vladimir Nabokov offers much more than that.’

Jaebeom hummed in interest.

‘I think Lolita is a construction by the protagonist, Humbert Humbert. She only exists as a representation of Dolores, having no voice, agency or individuality. There is no such thing as feelings between them, because everything is fabricated by Humbert who fancies himself in love with the idea of a perfect lover.

‘I never fully understand people who indulge themselves in feelings and imaginations. And Vladimir Nabokov is one of them in my opinion. He says, “we live not only in a world of thoughts, but also in a world of things. Words without experience are meaningless.” But if the so-called experience is nothing more than hallucination, then the words seem invalid too.’

‘What are you getting at,’ Jaebeom jutted his chin, ‘Jinyoung?’  
‘I read your short poem,’ he said as a matter of fact.  
The older stood abruptly and snapped, ‘you have no right to say it’s inva –’

‘You’re no different from Humbert! What do you really know about “your muse”? Nothing. The most intimate knowledge is perhaps how good he performed in bed or what type of kinks he had. You and Humbert both give your object of obsession a nickname which holds greater significance than their real name. And by doing so, you no longer see the other person as who they are but how they are invented in your head!

‘You may have become an outstanding author because of your tendency to indulge in excessive emotions. But this has to stop. Save all the fantasy for fiction, Lim Jaebeom!’

‘Get out.’  
His eyes widened in hurt, ‘come again?’  
‘I said get out!’

Jinyoung stormed out of apartment, leaving his copy of _Lolita_ next to the manila envelope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When will Jaebeom realise that Jinyoung’s being a huge help by introducing him to Tuan Yien, Mark? He is blinded by obsession and becomes a total idiot >< What’s your say about Markbeom crumbs?
> 
> Lyrics are translated by [coded4d9dc](https://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1sqrvlo), with slight changes to suit the story.
> 
> (Chapter title from JUS2’s ‘Toiki’)


End file.
